Masses to Masses 4
by iNf3ctioNZ
Summary: Entire colonies are disappearing. The only thing standing between humanity and the Collectors are an extremist organisation and a once dead Spectre. Ian Shaw may have survived Omega, but as a suicide mission looms and old faces emerge, he's about to find the future he thought he knew may no longer be so certain. And that the past is never far behind. Cover by GeneralHarryHousin.
1. Ian vs The SR-2

Chapter 1

DEXTERS: Recover

**Mass Effect, its characters, its setting, and all the other stuff in the Mass Effect universe is not owned by me. It's owned by the geniuses at BioWare. I also do not own any ****real bands, companies, products etc. that I mention.**

* * *

"_This island, it's changed me…I've killed so many people I've lost count. I can't come back from this. I'm a monster, I can __**feel**__ the anger inside me. But I am still, somewhere inside me, more than that. __**Better**__ than that. "  
_**  
Jason Brody, Far Cry 3**

* * *

Waking up isn't easy at the best of times.

I don't entirely remember why my entire body feels like it got ran over by a steamroller as I slowly try dragging my eyes open, then moan weakly and shut them again when the soft glow of the room burns my retinas. I don't remember why my whole body feels so sluggish, why everything doesn't smell of Omega, why I can't even feel the whole of my left arm.

The only thing I can immediately work out is that this definitely isn't the best of times.

I sniff the air again as my sense of smell reacquaints itself with me, then wrinkle my nose at the strong scent of antiseptic, metal, and an overwhelming cleanliness and sterility that triggers something in my memory. Smells like a hospital, or a medbay. It's usually the smell I associate with me fucking up somewhere along the line.

I try opening my eyes again, which meets with a lot more success since I manage to open them at least half a centimetre, but attempts to lift my head up from the bed meet with a fierce throb of pain that forces me straight back down, groaning to myself as the throbbing settles to a more manageable level. Given the state I'm in, the 'fucking up' theory seems increasingly plausible.

My hearing is starting to come back, as I survey the room through squinted eyes while my body starts itself up again. The lights aren't even on, but just the dull glow from machinery and outside the room makes my eyes hurt, as a familiar, constant low humming fills my ears. This isn't Monteague's med-bay, and that humming sounds like a mass effect core. Which means this must be the Normandy SR-2.

Presumably that means recruiting Garrus and I was a 'success'. Yay.

Buoyed by the revelation that I'm not dead, I take a few minutes lying down to try and let the pain subside, glancing at the drip attached to my right arm, the pads wired up to my chest and forehead, and the softly beeping machinery next to me. It was a varren bite that put me in here while Garrus and I were holding out together on Omega, I remember that much. Though I could've sworn it was in my left arm, rather than my right. My left arm is so numb I can't even move it, but there's no drip there at all. Odd.

Eventually I do manage to lift my head up from the pillow, followed by heaving up my torso into a seated position so I can reach the glass of water Chakwas must have left next to the bed. I take about two sips before a blue orb springs forth from a small terminal mounted in the wall about two metres away, filling the room with light that makes me gasp and shield my eyes. Of course, EDI. The new AI. That I need to remember to play dumb about.

"Dr. Chakwas instructed me to greet you in her absence, once it became clear you were active," she explains, familiar robotic tones filling the room. "I am an Enhanced Defence Intelligence, but the crew refers to me as EDI, the ship's AI."

"Nice to meet you, EDI," I say, my voice still scratchy and dry despite the sips of water, "but do you think you could turn your brightness down a little bit?"

"Of course," she replies, and I can see the light dimming in my peripheral vision, allowing me to uncover my eyes and look at the orb, along with her white 'mouth' bars when she talks. I know EDI is a 'good guy', to be agonisingly simplistic about it, but this is still my first conversation with a synthetic, and despite knowing about her from the games, it's still…interesting. "Dr. Chakwas also instructed me to ask you some questions." I raise an eyebrow at that, and while I feel quietly proud I've got enough control over the finer muscles in my body to achieve that, it also reminds me that EDI is still shackled and under Cerberus control. She may be nice, but it doesn't mean I can trust her.

"What kind of questions?" I ask, not meaning to sound as defensive as I do. EDI seems nonplussed by it, though.

"In regard to your memory," EDI replies calmly, in a way that suggests she was anticipating the suspicion. "She wants to make sure that your infection didn't affect anything. Nothing that should be difficult."

Okay, that seems fair enough. Maybe I don't need to be _that _concerned just yet. Still, reminding myself about Cerberus surveillance isn't a bad idea, considering it's guaranteed to be all over the ship. "Alright," I nod, settling back in the bed and trying to ignore my various aches. "Go ahead."

"What is your name?"

"You weren't lying about the not difficult thing, were you?"

"Please answer the question," EDI replies, and her standard flat tone seems to carry just the faintest hint of exasperation to it. She always was good at that…

"Ian Shaw," I reply, sighing. If I want someone to have a laugh with, EDI probably isn't the best choice. Let's just get this out the way.

"Date of birth?"

Oh, fuck, that actually _is _a difficult question, especially since I practically burst out 1992. It's October 2185, my birthday is in September and I'm twenty-three, so… "September the tenth, 2162,"

"Occupations?"

"C-Sec contraband department for about two years, worked with Commander Shepard to stop Saren Arterius, another half year at C-Sec then about one and a half years as a professional vigilante on Omega," I reply, my mind drawn to the things that happened on Omega. There are some things there I really wish I didn't remember, that's for sure.

"Who was your partner at C-Sec?"

"Garrus Vakarian." Shit, Garrus, I haven't even thought about him. We blew up the gunship, so he shouldn't have been missiled, which is good, but I know I need to talk to him about something…

Sidonis. That was it. He thought I called him away from the squad when the mercs found out about us, and he came back to the base because of it. He might not the be the one who sold us out. Course, that begs the question of who did, but it's not something I feel ready to focus on right now.

"Can you name your other squad members from the Normandy SR-1?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Erm…Urdnot Wrex." Good old Wrex. We stopped messaging each other so often towards the end of my time on Omega, but we're still in contact, and last I heard he was smashing heads together on Tuchanka to get the krogan to work together. That's another thing I need to do, get back into contact with him. Especially since we'll be visiting Tuchanka sooner or later.

"Garrus, obviously, then Kaidan Alenko." Who'll probably still be running around with the Alliance, knowing him. Gotta be honest, I haven't talked to him in almost a year, which is a shame, but we've both been pretty busy. I guess Horizon would be a good time to catch up. Well, maybe not good, but at least we'll see each other again.

"Liara T'Soni." Liara went off the grid completely about a month after Shepard's funeral. If memory serves, I think she had something to do with recovering Shepard's body, but by now she ought to be on Ilium flaying people with her mind. I think she can wait for a face to face meeting.

"Ashley Williams." Well, the late Ashley Williams. Killed by Saren on Virmire. Which reminds me...Saren Arterius, the turian who escaped indoctrination where it should have led to his demise. Still out in the galaxy, somewhere, and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

"And Tali'Zorah," I finish. Ah, Tali. Part of me looks forward to seeing her again, even if I'm worried that the whole thing will be horrifically awkward, seeing as we broke up a few months back on account of me not warning her about her father's geth activation problems and her incriminating herself by accident. Still, we're both adults. I'm sure it'll be fine.

"You don't remember her full name?" EDI asks.

"Well, it doesn't exactly roll off the tongue," I reply. "It was nar Rayaa back on the SR-1. Think it changed to vas Neema when she came back from her Pilgrimage?"

"Yes, it did," she confirms. "One more question. How many people were in your squad on Omega?"

I'm about to answer, then frown at EDI's avatar. "How would you know that?"

"Dr. Chakwas asked Garrus earlier for the purposes of this test," EDI explains. "He was clear he would only give a number, rather than any names." Good, that was sensible of him…

"There were thirteen of us in total, at least before any casualties or people leaving," I say. Myself, Garrus, Butler, Weaver, Grundan, Laet, Monteague, Erash, Sensat, Vortash, Mierin, Melanis and Sidonis, though Mierin was killed, and Erash left after his involvement in the death of Laet's brother became clear. The others escaped Omega safely, though. I have no idea what they'll do once they're clear of the Terminus, but everyone should report in within a week. If not, Garrus and I will message them. Even if I want to message Melanis right now to find out if she's alright. Romantic involvement with someone does have a way of making you concerned about them. "Satisfied?"

"Your memory appears to be undamaged," EDI notes, presumably storing the information away to report to Chakwas later. "Dr. Chakwas is available to contact if you need to see her, but she instructed me to remind you of the time before you respond. It is 4:55am in the ship's day cycle."

I'm still aching, but the drip suggests I'm probably doped up to dull pain already, so there's not much Chakwas can do but pour scathing disapproval on me for waking her this early for no reason. Which is probably why she got EDI to tell me that. "Leave it, then," I say, quietly yawning. I still feel weak and totally exhausted, so more rest suits me fine. Presumably I must be out of the danger zone since Chakwas isn't present. "I'll take some more rest."

"Logging you out, Ian," EDI says, then minimises back into the panel, blue light suddenly extinguishing. I sigh, rubbing at my face with my right hand after the left remains stubbornly immobile, then give a small chuckle under the breath. I may feel like shit, but it's the SR-2. I made it.

Which reminds me… "EDI?" I ask, and the orb immediately pops open. The fact she's always listening is definitely unnerving, but hey, she _is _the Normandy. "Did everyone else make it back okay?"

"You were the only major injury," EDI tells me. "Garrus was treated for dehydration, but has fully recuperated."

"How long was I out?"

"Two days, four hours and twenty six minutes."

"Fuck," I mutter. No wonder I can barely move. "Are we out of the Terminus systems?"

"Yes," EDI says, not at all bothered by the questioning. I doubt this is exactly straining her computing power. "We are currently on a course to the Citadel for a resupply, as well as business Commander Shepard needs to attend to."

The Citadel. I thought I was getting bored of it before I left for Omega, and now getting back to it seems like one of the most appealing things in the galaxy. "Alright, thanks," I nod, yawning again, this time much louder.

"Logging you out," EDI repeats, minimising again. I take another slow sip of water, then gently lower myself back onto the bed, closing my eyes as the comforting hum of the ship wraps around me. We're out of the Terminus. Melanis might not be here, but for the first time in almost two years, it feels like I can sleep without worrying about having a weapon close to hand.

I'm sure being pumped full of antibiotics and painkillers probably helps too, because I'm out within ten seconds of lying back down, a small smile stuck on my face as I sink into a dreamless sleep.

########

"Well, Ian Shaw," I hear Chakwas say, my eyes flickering open to see the grey haired, slim woman leaning over my bed with a familiar grin. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Don't act like you're surprised," I grunt, heaving myself into a seated position. I'm still feeling raw, but not as bad as waking up last night, and the feeling of my senses being dead has lifted somewhat. I glance to where the drip was, noticing it's now conspicuously absent. Left arm is still completely numb, though. "I always assumed if we met again, this was how it was going to happen."

"I assumed that too," Chakwas replies. "But I was hoping you could prove me wrong for once." We both grin for a few seconds, then she reaches her right hand out to me. "Nice seeing you again, Ian."

"It usually is," I say, getting her to chuckle as I shake her hand. "I'm guessing you saved my life again?"

"Yes, despite your continued desire to get yourself killed," Chakwas nods, her tone a touch disapproving. "It's a miracle you survived long enough for me to operate. Garrus said you'd had that varren bite for about three hours."

"It's not like I put some garnish on it and stuck it in a varren's mouth," I protest. "I don't like getting killed, stuff just likes killing me."

"Yes, well, regardless," Chakwas mutters, shaking her head, "varren don't have natural toxins, but they _do _carry countless diseases and bacteria in their saliva that got into your arm. Most of which will kill a human. Or turian, or anyone, for that matter. Only people who can shake it off are krogan, hence why they insist on keeping the things." She sighs, shaking her head again before continuing. "By the time you got here, your bite wound was completely infected, along with the rest of your arm, and it was spreading."

Ah, shit, I can see where this is going. Especially with how I can't feel my left arm. "You amputated?"

"A course of antibiotics to kill the infection with your arm attached would have killed you," Chakwas explains. "The dosage needed would have been too great. And even if that had worked, the arm would have been irreversibly damaged. Amputation was our best option, followed by purging any trace of the infection, which is probably why you're feeling weak right now."

"Purging never seems to be a good word in medicine," I say, trying not to think about what 'purging' might have involved. "You're right about feeling weak, but hey, it's better than being dead."

"I'm glad you think so," Chakwas says dryly. I look down at my left arm, still immobile, finding it hard to believe it's not mine. It looks the same. Yet, presumably, that's a full synthetic, similar to what Shepard must have now.

"I'm assuming it's normal I can't feel the replaced limb?"

"Yes, it's normal," Chakwas nods. "A lot of that will be from the course of treatment you've been through, but your body needs to get used to using the new nerves in a full range of movement."

"Cybernetics, right?" I ask, glancing back to her.

"You got the best treatment available, which means cybernetics," she replies. "Perks of being with Cerberus. Once you get used to it, in practical terms, it'll be like you never lost it in the first place."

"Mmm," I nod absent-mindedly, looking at it. "Practically." Course, in real terms it means part of me is synthetic. It doesn't bother me, considering I'm extremely lucky to be alive and have something that acts as a full replacement, but there's just something weird about it. "I remember there being a Cerberus operative with Shepard. Does that mean-"

"You're on a Cerberus ship," Chakwas says, confirming what I already knew. Still, someone needs to 'explain' it to me. "They rebuilt the Normandy after it got destroyed, they rebuilt Shepard, and recruited me as the ship's medical officer."

"You joined Cerberus?" I ask, doing my best to give a confused expression. "What did the Alliance say?"

Chakwas has a rare moment of looking uncomfortable when I ask that. "They don't know, strictly speaking. I'm on leave."

I stare at her for a few seconds, then laugh, grinning at her. "Well, look who became a rebel in the two years we haven't seen each other."

"I joined because of Jeff," Chakwas says, smiling as she shakes her head at me. "He was grounded after the SR-1, you know. Cerberus offered to let him fly again, in a new Normandy, and he was never going to refuse that. Besides, the Alliance weren't using me for anything someone younger and in a fast-track programme couldn't do." The last part sounds downright hostile. "Shepard's here. I've found that guarantees useful work, and she could do with a friendly face with Cerberus around."

"I think we all could," I murmur. "How is Shepard, actually? I saw like five minutes of her before I blacked out."

"Waiting to see you," she says. "She told me to tell her when you woke up. Other than that, she's fine. Still herself. I always find it odd how quickly she picked up running things again, but then I remember…well, you know."

"Yeah," I nod. It's been two years for us. For Shepard, it'll seem like a couple of days, so no wonder she's not really lost her flow. At least, not in terms of running the ship. I doubt things are really gonna be the same beneath that, but if she's likely to confide in anyone, it'll probably be Garrus, not me. Chakwas and I are just sitting in awkward silence now, so I should probably move the conversation along. "So, new arm. How long until I'm mission fit?"

"I'd like to think we can get you into the field within a week, maybe less," Chakwas says, back into her professional self as she picks up a datapad. "I've got some exercises for you to do with it. Starting off with basic hand and arm movement, before weights, the firing range, agility work by the time we get to the end of the week. At least six hours a day formally, but try and keep it moving in your spare time."

"I can punch out the surveillance stuff Cerberus'll have set up if that helps," I suggest, making Chakwas laugh. "I'd be pretty surprised if they didn't have any."

"Oh, it's common knowledge on the ship," she nods. "Shepard went around removing obvious ones, but we all know there's ones we can't find, so she's told us not to worry. How did she put it…'they spent billions putting me back together, I doubt they'll shut us down for criticising them'."

"Yeah, that sounds like Lara," I laugh. "Can you copy the exercise stuff onto a datapad for me? I'll forget otherwise." Chakwas gives me a disapproving look, not dissimilar to the kind I'm used to from Monteague. Must be something they teach you in medical school, but I can see her copying the data to a blank datapad anyway. "And this new arm…it's the same, right? No augmentations?"

"No, we didn't put anything new in. It's an exact replacement," Chakwas tells me. "I'd need your permission to perform a procedure like that."

"I'm surprised Cerberus didn't push for it," I comment. I figured they'd quite like the opportunity to improve someone working for them, though I'm using 'working for' in the loosest possible way.

"Miranda didn't say anything about augments," Chakwas shrugs. "She's the Cerberus liaison, so they mustn't have been concerned."

"I think I saw her on Omega," I say, thinking back to the ridiculous catsuit attire I've got in the back of my head. It was definitely her. God knows I watched enough Chuck back in the day to instantly recognise that face. "What do you mean, 'we' didn't put anything new in?"

"Dr. Solus helped post-operation," Chakwas tells me. "You can meet him later, but he ran a clinic on Omega. Shepard recruited him while you were out, and he came to see if anything had to be done. He's very…active."

"Well, I look forward to meeting him. And everyone else," I say, glancing to the door. I don't feel strong enough to fight, but I reckon I could walk around at a very slow pace and get to know the new ship. Miracles of modern medicine. "When can I, you know…go?"

"Shepard wants to come in and see you; I can look over your readings and make sure you're fine to walk," she says. "No strenuous exercise today. You might be out of the danger zone, but walking and talking are as hard as you work, and Shepard has been told categorically you are _not _to be allowed anywhere near a mission briefing until I say you're ready."

"Guess I'll just have to a find a way to put myself in mortal danger aboard the ship, then," I shrug, grinning at her.

"And I know you'll manage it," Chakwas sighs. "I'll call Shepard in." She scans her omni-tool over the machinery set up next to my bed, swipes it over her datapad, then turns around to open the door and I hear her muffled voice say a name. When she comes back in, Lara Shepard is behind her, edges of her green eyes stretching out as she flashes me a quick smile. Asides from the few cybernetic scars, she doesn't look any different. Cerberus did a perfect job. I'm not sure she'll see it that way herself, but again, that's not something I plan on broaching here.

"Commander," I say, returning the smile.

"Shepard," she sighs, shaking her head and glancing over her shoulder. "Everyone affiliated with Cerberus insists on calling me Commander to the point where I almost hate the word. You'd think they would have seen the records about how I ran the old Normandy."

"It's Cerberus," I shrug. "All the crew probably got whipped daily in training, no wonder everyone jumps to attention whenever the CO walks past." She laughs, settling back in the chair next to my bed. "It's good to see you again, Shepard. Wish it had been in better circumstances in the first place, mind."

"I wish this whole thing was in better circumstances, but here we are," she says, frowning. "How's the arm?"

"Still a bit stiff, but Chakwas says it'll be less of a dead weight later today," I explain. I have no idea how Shepard had her entire body replaced and then managed to get up straight away. She's clearly just more of a tank than I am. "I, uh…well, how're you doing?"

"Good, all things considered," she nods, looking up at me beneath her brunette fringe. "You don't have to dodge around what happened to me, you know."

Oh. Well, can't say I was expecting the bluntness. "I didn't realise I was dodging it."

Shepard laughs again, though it's in a friendly way rather than derision. "You were tripping over your words. I just think it's easier we get it out of the way and go back to things as normal."

I'm trying not to narrow my eyes in confusion, but it's really hard. I was fully expecting Shepard to skirt around the subject herself. Not…well, this. "Alright," I nod, deciding to be blunt. "You died. But now you're back, for whatever reason, and it's good to see you again. That's what I meant."

"Okay," Shepard smiles, apparently satisfied. "Sorry. It's just…" She considers for a second, shaking her head. "Never mind. It's good to see you too." Riiiight. It doesn't exactly take much of my detective's intuition that _something _is bothering her, but that's not my place. "I suppose you're due an explanation as to what's going on."

"If you wouldn't mind," I say, settling back in my bed.

"I don't know how much you've been paying attention to galactic news, but human colonies are disappearing," she explains. "Entire colonies. There one minute, then suddenly everyone's disappeared. Abducted by the Collectors."

I furrow my brow, faking confusion. "Collectors sound familiar. I think Saleon mentioned them way back when."

"They're a race that lives beyond the Omega-4 Relay," Shepard continues. "No-one knows much about them, just that they have tech beyond anything we know. They barely ever come past the relay, unless they have something they want to trade for, like Saleon and the organ trade. Any ship that goes through the relay doesn't come back."

"But they're the ones abducting colonies," I murmur. "You seen any proof of that?"

"We went to a colony that had been hit. Freedom's Progress," Shepard nods. "Tali and a quarian recovery crew were there, and we saw footage of Collector swarms freezing people, before taking them away. The scientist we recruited from Omega, Mordin Solus, he's working on a counter-measure for us. I know for sure it's the Collectors, though."

"So Cerberus aren't particularly keen on human colonies disappearing, hence bringing you back," I say. "Let me guess. We're looking for a way through the Omega-4 relay to stop them?"

"I'm getting a crew together to do it," she says, not even a flicker of doubt in her face and voice. "Someone has to."

"That sounds like a suicide mission."

"That's what Cerberus told me," Shepard smiles. "I intend to prove them wrong."

I grin up at her, shaking my head. Anyone else would be terrified. Shepard just sees it as a goal. "Well, I can't say I'm a fan of colonies disappearing, human or otherwise," I say. "Plus I owe you one for getting me out of Omega. And I'm sort of unemployed at the moment."

"Sounds like a perfect arrangement of circumstances."

"I was thinking the exact same thing," I chuckle. "I'll probably regret this later, but count me in, Shepard."

"I already did," she nods. "Just wanted to make sure."

"I'm hurt you even had to do that," I say, faking insult. "By the way," I add. "It figures we don't make much of a dent in the merc groups over two years, then you show up and wreck them in one night."

"That's exactly what Garrus said," she chuckles. "You helped with planting the explosives on the gunship. And your explosives expert had left some surprises for the mercs in the tunnels before he left."

"Oh, stop being modest," I say, rolling my eyes. "You had to carry me out, that balances out the explosives I put on the gunship." It's hard to remember now the pain of the infected arm is gone, but I planted those explosives…to kill myself. That's not a pleasant thought.

"That did make things more complex," she nods. "Your friend Garm decided to come into the house with a rocket launcher as well."

Huh. That's definitely not canon. "Christ, I remember when _Wrex _had a rocket launcher, and that wasn't pretty. How'd you deal with that?"

"Well, this was after the Suns and Eclipse tried their own attacks," Shepard explains. "The Blood Pack were the only ones left. Garrus tricked him into shooting some support pillars, and Garm ended up collapsing the building on himself and his men while we escaped."

"Wrex had brains too, probably why he succeeded with his launcher," I sigh. Stupid Garm. "Melanis is gonna kill me for the house being destroyed, though."

"I think Garrus mentioned her," Shepard says, a smile creeping up the edges of her mouth. "Female turian? He said you'd know her _far _better than he did."

"Yeah, I bet he did," I mutter. Well, Shepard knows I got a new girlfriend. Which also means she knows I broke up with Tali, and either isn't that bothered or never expected it to last anyway. Both seem entirely reasonable. "He's told you about what Omega was like?"

"I've gotten quite a good idea, between him and Mordin," she says. "Aria T'Loak gave me a brief history of what you and Garrus had been up to as well."

"Oh, trust me, Aria won't have told you the half of it," I chuckle cynically. "It's not her style."

"You knew her well?"

"I knew her, but I wouldn't use words like 'well'," I frown, narrowing my eyes at the thought of her. Considering it looks like Sidonis didn't betray us…well, she could be on my 'list of suspects'. "Too many positive connotations."

"She seemed quite fond of you," Shepard shrugs.

"Yeah, see, that is her style," I nod. "At best I'd call us frienemies. And that's being _very _generous to her. She helped us out, but it wasn't for free, put it that way."

"Aria used you?" Shepard asks, eyes narrowing as she does. She always was protective of her crew…

"I didn't exactly make it hard for her," I admit. "But I'm better than that now. At least she helped me there." I look up at Shepard again, who seems to be quietly calculating. "It's just how Omega works, Shepard," I explain. "Aria plays games with people she finds interesting, both parties get something out of it, then she gets bored and moves on."

"And here I was thinking there was hard feelings between you two," she replies, with a hint of sarcasm.

"None that I can do anything about," I sigh. "Aria and Omega are in the past, and I'd really like to keep it that way."

"You sure?" Shepard asks, smiling. "If I can take care of the three major mercenary groups, I can kick down Afterlife's front door for you."

I smile too, shaking my head. "As much as I'd like to see that, I think I'm fine. Thanks for the offer, though."

"Don't mention it," she chuckles. "So, when does Chakwas think you'll be mission fit?"

"A week. Maybe quicker if I train fast, which I plan on doing."

"Good," Shepard nods. "The quicker you're back, the better. Having two people I know watching my back would be nice."

"You don't trust the new crew?" I ask.

"I trust them. I just trust you and Garrus more."

"Fair enough," I smile, feeling quite happy Shepard has that attachment to us. "I picked up a few new skills on Omega, so I might be less of a dead weight this time around."

Shepard smirks and shakes her head. "I'd say you acquitted yourself pretty well last time around, so if you've improved, even better. I did see that sword thing of yours in the armoury."

Ah, they recovered the HVB. Good. It wouldn't have been nice to see all of Laet's work go to waste. "Well, I wouldn't say that was a new skill just yet," I admit, scratching my head with my good arm. "I'm still working on using it."

"You've got a week to practice before we put you out in the field," she says. "Speaking of which, Garrus says you got trained in infiltration? Went undercover a few times?"

Well, this is clearly building up to something. "Yeah, that was my thing. Why?"

Shepard smiles widely, settling back in her chair. "There's a mission that might require those skillsets, and I think you might be better suited to it than I am."

Okay, that's odd. I don't remember any Mass Effect 2 missions I'm better suited to than Shepard… "What do you have in mind?" I ask.

"Not me," Shepard explains. "Kasumi." Oh, the hooded Japanese woman? I remember her from Omega, vaguely. Not from the games, though. Maybe she was DLC? Or maybe Shepard just picked her up anyway? It's not like I can check, so there's no point dwelling on it. "She can give you the details and help you train for it."

"Alright," I nod, not entirely sure what to make of this. I guess if Shepard thinks I can do it better, she's probably right. It's not like she's ever been one to doubt her own abilities. "I'll head along once Chakwas lets me out."

"Your readings are fine," Chakwas says, turning around from her chair across the room from us. "You should get some real food once you leave, but nothing rich. We don't want you throwing up."

"The way Gardener's cooking, I don't think there's much chance of getting 'real food' anywhere," Shepard points out. "The sooner we get to the Citadel to get him some good ingredients, the better." She glances back to me. "And that reminds me I need to get ready for reaching the Citadel. I've got a meeting with the Council and Anderson."

"When do we dock?" I ask.

"About a day's time, so I need to try and work out how I explain showing up in a Cerberus ship," Shepard says, furrowing her brow. "The Alliance haven't exactly been useful so far, so I doubt this'll help things."

"At least Anderson will be there," I say, trying to cheer her up, despite the fact I know he's not gonna be much help either. "It could be worse. Imagine if it was Udina."

"That's true," she nods. "Only three of the four councillors won't be happy to see me, as opposed to all of them."

"Reminding them they owe you their lives might help a bit," I suggest.

Shepard chuckles at that. "Because they've always been so excellent at listening to reason."

I really hope she hasn't seen the stuff that came out about her when she was dead, now that I think about it. I'd be surprised if she hasn't, though. All it would take is one extranet search of her name to see every article, soundbite and video clip. The Council ones weren't ever particularly positive. "Good luck, then," I say. "It'll be fine, Shepard. You want anyone to come with you?"

"I'll have Garrus," she says, and that thought does get a smile on her face. He'll be as good a reassurance as any. "You need to stay here and get better." I see Chakwas glancing at me from her chair, narrowing her eyes in a familiar dangerous stare.

"You know," I nod. "That seems like a good idea."

"Good," Shepard smiles, as Chakwas turns back around again. "Oh, and make sure you get to know the rest of the team. Head up to the CIC and talk to Kelly Chambers, she'll point you to where everyone is. Joker's there too if you want to catch up."

Ah, introductions with the new crew. Should be fun. Or maybe just interesting with some people. "Will do. Thanks, Shepard."

"No problem," she says, getting to her feet and giving me one last look. "Nice to have you back, Ian."

"Same to you, Commander," I smile, making her roll her eyes and laugh as she leaves the room.

She looks like she's doing alright, which is good. Obviously the dying thing isn't something she's ignoring, quite the opposite, but at least she seems pretty eager to get it out of the way with everyone. The Shepard I know did always like to be up-front.

"Come on," Chakwas says, getting to her feet and walking over to me to pull the wires still attached to my body. "Let's get you back out there."

Beneath the sharp pains of sticky pads being pulled off bare skin, I smile to myself, looking out the medbay window at the SR-2. Omega felt alien, strange, terrifying. This feels like home.

I'm back. That rock, with its games, crime, deception and horrors, is behind me. Sidonis might not have betrayed us, but right now, I don't care. We all made it out. That's what matters.

Waking up isn't easy at the best of times. But now I know where I am, this is the easiest it's felt in two years.

###########

**Meanwhile, on Omega…  
****October 18****th****, 2185  
****11:32am, Omega time  
****Ruins of Archangel's hideout**

Waking up isn't easy.

The sound of feet and claws scrabbling around on rubble is what woke him, each unidentifiable shout and voice pulling him closer and closer to full consciousness. He groans, trying to move, but finds even his strength is pinned by the wreckage surrounding him. His face, for the first time in as long as he can remember, feels raw. Tender. Injured. The other wounds he surmises he must have received must have healed, because he can feel none of them.

Yet he remembers the flames licking at his face as the rocket exploded, the explosion burning him, the roof giving way and falling on him as the turian watched and smiled. He had been tricked, and his target had escaped. Both of them had. They had left him burned and scarred, trapped underneath the house that was supposed to have been their graves.

He groaned again as the voices grew closer, clarity coming to his thoughts as a primal instinct bloomed within him. Archangel and Archdemon had escaped him, but they had also thought he was defeated.

Their mistake.

Garm opened his mouth and roared, tensing his arms against the floor and pushing up with incredible strength, feeling the huge weight trapping him shift and decrease as rubble slid from the area covering him. The voices grew closer, more frantic, and with them the weight reduced until finally, with an almighty push, he threw himself free and up to his feet, surveying the vorcha and two krogan staring at him in awe and fear. As they should.

"Garm," one of the krogan, who Garm doesn't recognise except for his Blood Pack armour, breathes. "You're alive."

"You should never have thought anything else, whelp," he snarls. "You've got ten minutes to tell whoever replaced me that, and tell him to get off Omega before I find out who he is." Garm didn't know for sure that someone had taken over the Blood Pack, but it was a safe bet someone would have seized the reigns in presuming him dead. He hoped they wouldn't try and escape when they found out he was alive. He was in the mood to rip something apart.

"And you," Garm adds, turning his gaze to the second krogan. "What happened to Archangel? His crew?"

"They escaped," the krogan says, and it says something about the respect Garm holds that his voice is trembling as he does. "All of them. The Suns and Eclipse leadership are dead, and no-one knows where they went."

"Idiots," Garm growls, shaking his head. "We still have the information sent to us? Their faces, names?"

"Yes, but Archangel and Archdemon weren't in those files-"

"Then get Nakmor Ranx," he snaps. "Give him those files, and tell him I want them dead. That will draw Archangel and Archdemon in, and he can kill them as well." He's about to turn away, when he changes his mind and looks back. "No. Tell him I want them all dead, except that turian and his pet human. I want them alive."

"Yes, sir," the krogan says, running off with his comrade before Garm's mood grew even more sour. The vorcha continued to stare at Garm's face, but a glare of those dark red eyes saw him scuttling off too, as the krogan stood atop the wreckage of Archangel's old hideout.

Lifting a hand, he touched the burn scars on his face, and the pain that went through his body from it had no effect other than to strengthen his resolve for revenge. Ranx wasn't like the other krogan. Where they were stupid, he was smart, where they were slow, he was quick. He wasn't the closest thing the Blood Pack had to an assassin, he was one of the best assassins in the galaxy. Ranx would find them. Then, they would finally learn what it meant to cross the Blood Pack, and leave their mark upon its leader.

Archangel and Archdemon might have thought Omega was done with them.

Omega had other plans.

* * *

**MASSES TO MASSES 4**

* * *

**A/N: It won't be a long gap, he said, it'll only be about a month, he said…**

**Sorry this took so long, but the important thing is, I'm back, and if that last section didn't make it clear I have a **_**lot **_**of plans for this story. The feedback on Masses to Masses 3 seemed to make out like you all appreciate original content, so obviously while this story will follow Mass Effect 2 events…well, there's going to be plenty of original plotlines too, put it that way. All in the MEverse, though. I'm not starting crossovers or anything.**

**So…I'm not really sure what else to say. This was more of an introductory chapter, so the excitement and drama will continue shortly; obviously, you all want to get to know the new crew and get attached before I make you terrified for their lives.**

**Suffice to say I'm really excited to have this going, so hopefully you all are as well. Now it's just a matter of trying to contain all the things I really want to reveal.**

**Oh, and if anyone's interested, I have a tumblr now. My name on it is inf3ctionz.**

**As always, it's great to be back, and I'll see you next chapter! **


	2. Ian vs The Syringe

Chapter 2

Poets of the Fall: Skin

Chakwas didn't take too long getting me prepped to get out of the medbay, and it's a fairly painless process; at least once she'd ripped off all the sticky pads holding the medical equipment to me and gave me some privacy to get my normal clothes on. She gave me some painkillers, copied the arm exercises onto a datapad for me, and emphasised that I need to take things slow; since my brain needs to adapt, I shouldn't be surprised if it suddenly becomes unresponsive at first, and that I can barely move it. She also said I need to go and talk to Mordin about the new arm, because apparently there's some genetic issues that he can explain better than Chakwas can.

I doubt Mordin's even able to put things into idiot speak for me to understand, but Chakwas doesn't seem particularly bothered by that, and my requests for a lollipop for being brave during surgery fall on deaf ears. So here I am, out in the mess hall of the Normandy SR-2, leaning on the wall next to the medbay door and watching some of the new crew grabbing snacks.

First impressions? Positive. The Cerberus logos everywhere aren't really adding to the aesthetic, but then again I was never a huge fan of all the Alliance insignias on the old Normandy, so that's a fairly negligible difference. The drive core seems a little quieter this time around, and the air feels less…recycled, I guess. Maybe that's because I've been used to Omega air, which is the equivalent of smoking seventy cigarettes a day, but it's a huge improvement. A couple of crew members I don't even know stop and ask if I'm feeling better as I stand and look around, which is a pleasant surprise.

I mean, sure, there's this whole layer of artificial sheen to it that Cerberus added to keep us at ease, and every inch of the place is bugged, but an environment that's actively welcoming rather than one where people will shoot you for looking at them funny is definitely a good change. I don't need to try and keep my back to a wall most of the time.

So it beats Omega. Not exactly a proud boast for the SR-2, but that'll do me fine. I take a quick glance across the room to the door of Miranda's office, but then my eyes are drawn to the Main Battery immediately afterwards. All things considered, I think Garrus takes priority over her.

I start to walk off towards his door, taking things slow and steady. Probably the weirdest feeling about the new arm is that I move my right one in time with my strides, but the left just hangs there, incredibly conspicuous now I can't do that one subconscious movement. I sigh, trying not to look at or worry about it. I've got a week to work it out, after all, whereas I've only got about ten seconds to work out how I'm supposed to reunite with Garrus.

Unsurprisingly, ten seconds isn't nearly enough, so I stop at his door with my good hand raised to knock on it. I honestly expected him to come see me in the medbay, so the fact he's probably in here is…I dunno. We did already say a final goodbye to each other, before I came back and started dying right in front of him instead. That might make for some complicated feelings.

"Christ, Ian, he's not your boyfriend," I mutter, then knock on the door before I can change my mind. I know I'll be happy to see him, I just hope the feeling's mutual.

I only have to wait for a few seconds before the lock flashes green and the door slides open, making me look up a few inches to see Garrus, his mandibles flexing and widening into a smile. There's an awkward silence, then I try a chuckle, glancing to the side. "Guess I was a bit premature with the whole dying thing?" I say, giving him an awkward smile.

The turian just reaches out a gloved hand, putting it onto my shoulder and pulling me into the room, then lets out a long, flanging sigh as the door closes and he pulls me into a surprisingly strong hug. "Never do that again."

"Wasn't planning on it," I say, feeling relief bloom in my chest as he loosens his grip and pulls back, but still keeps both hands on my shoulders as we lock eyes. "But hugs, Garrus? Three days back with Shepard and she's already got you showing you care?"

"Don't," he says firmly, shaking his head. "I thought you were dead. I had to sit in the house and think about you dying for me, then see you come back, then go through it all again. So drop the jokes for a second."

"Alright, no jokes," I nod, lifting my right hand and putting it on his wrist. "But I'm fine, Garrus. Seriously." He looks me over once again, and there's something fiercely protective in those eyes before he nods and lets his hand drop, the fierceness receding.

"Okay," he says, then meets my eyes before chuckling and shaking his head. "Humans have a strange definition of fine. If my arm had been cut off I'm sure I wouldn't call it 'fine'."

"They did replace it," I point out, glancing down at the currently useless limb. "I mean, I can't use it, but that's not the point."

"So, not only do you lose your arm, but now you have a synthetic replacement that doesn't even do anything," Garrus points out, folding his arms. "Like I said. I think fine means different things for turians and humans."

I shake my head, smirking. "So much for no jokes, then."

"Well, you had a point," Garrus smiles. "Shepard must be making me soft and emotional. Much better if we make sarcastic remarks at each other."

"Good. I was getting worried we were going to talk about feelings."

"Mmm. Terrified."

I laugh a little, feeling the relief again. "I'm sorry I put you through all that," I say, as he steps back to lean on the console. "Seriously. I don't know what it must have felt like for you."

"It didn't feel great," Garrus shrugs. He's trying to make light of it, which I'm grateful for, but I've known him long enough to know when he's hiding his true feelings about something. "But you put me through the same scare back at C-Sec. And unless you got bitten deliberately, I'm not sure what you're apologising for."

"It just…I dunno, it felt like the right thing to say," I say. Garrus is clearly relieved to see me, and given that little burst of protectiveness when I walked in, 'relieved' seems a fairly weak word for it, but I'm still concerned about how he feels about me hiding things from him. "And I do need to apologise about not telling you abo-"

I don't even get the chance to finish that sentence, as Garrus steps away from the console and puts a talon to my mouth. "I told you. No apologies," he says, but he makes eye contact with me, then looks over at the EDI console in the corner of the room. Shit, the bugs, of course… "Let me show you what I've been doing with the main gun."

"Catching up on calibrations?" I ask, as Garrus guides me to the workstation so our backs are turned to EDI's terminal, before he opens his omni-tool to a word processor.

"It's not the Mako, but I'll make do where I can," he says absent-mindedly, as he starts typing.

"_I told you back on Omega, I understand why you didn't tell me about Sidonis," _he types. _"But we need to talk about what you know. If you don't trust me to know in advance in case I change anything, that's fine, but if you can tell me so I'm not waiting on it-"_

I grab his hand to stop him in the middle of that, shaking my head as I open my omni-tool and start my reply. _"I trust you. And at this point I don't think there's any point in us worrying about you changing anything."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Well, the squad wasn't supposed to survive in the first place, so that's already a pretty major change," _I type, and Garrus nods next to me as I write it out, before looking at me as I pause. Ach, I should just be blunt with him. _"I don't think Sidonis was the one who betrayed us."_

Garrus stares at me, then shakes his head. _"He was the only one who wasn't in the base when we got attacked."_

"_I know, but when I was planting the explosives on the gunship, he was there," _I explain. _"He got drawn away because he got a message from my omni-tool telling him to meet Melanis and I."_

"_How is that possible?" _Garrus asks.

"_I don't know the tech, but sending a message from someone else's contact details probably isn't too hard with the right knowledge," _I reply, trying not to laugh at how surreal this situation is, with both Garrus and I furiously typing a conversation while standing right next to each other. At least we could talk on Omega. _"And it's not like a whole lot of people have my contact details."_

Garrus sighs, flexing his mandibles in thought before he starts typing again. _"Are you sure you saw him?"_

"_How do you mean?"_

"_You weren't exactly too lucid when you left the house," _he points out. That's…okay, I was in a bad state, and I had collapsed onto my bad arm before I saw Sidonis. Fever hallucinations do happen, and god knows I had to keep confirming Shepard was real when I saw her, given how I felt. On the other hand, Sidonis grabbed me and started choking me, I remember it clearly. Maybe that was my brain rationalising the infection killing me?

Shit. I know I have the memories of Sidonis there…but looking back, the whole thing is kind of a blur. I can't have imagined it. Right? _"I remember seeing him," _I type, with an expression that's more confident than I feel. _"I think someone made him a scapegoat. It's not a theory I'm willing to rule out, anyway."_

"_How many theories do you have ruled in?"_

"_One or two," _I reply vaguely, trying to work out possibilities. Aria has my contact details and a potential grudge, after the way I told her we were through. Everyone in the squad had my contact details, and the mercs could have got to potentially anyone; by that logic, they should all be suspects. Or I could have just imagined Sidonis' appearance and it really was him. The only other possibility I can think of is Shiara wanting to ensure canon followed its normal course, but she hasn't been given my contact details. As far as I'm aware.

They're all theories, though. Everyone has their motives and possibilities. Without evidence, I'm just speculating. _"We can investigate when everyone's back into contact," _I continue. _"You heard from anyone?"_

"_It's only been three days, and they're only to get in contact after two weeks, when it's likely to be safe," _Garrus types, then glances back at EDI's terminal. _"We can probably go back to talking now."_

"_Alright," _I finish, closing my omni-tool and clearing my throat. "Nice calibrations, yeah." Good work, Ian. EDI won't suspect a thing. "So nothing yet? I figured at least some of them would be clear of the Terminus by now."

"If they have any sense, they should all be clear of the Terminus," Garrus says. "That was part of the plan if we got compromised. Split into groups of no more than two and go our separate ways. Then lie low a week or two before getting in contact." He must notice me sighing and looking at the ground, because he steps a little closer. "No-one's scheduled to get in contact for at least another week, week and a half. If anyone had called in already, it would mean they were in trouble. It's a good thing."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I nod. "I've never been much good at waiting. Especially when, you know, it's people's lives and all that." I give a little chuckle, trying to stay rational about it. The merc leaders are all dead, after all. They've got bigger things to worry about than heading after us. Plus they never bothered in game.

"They can all look after themselves, Ian," Garrus says reassuringly. "Everyone has a safe place they can go." He glances at me with a toothy smile. "Are you just worried Melanis is going to be lonely without you?"

"Oh, you can fuck _right _off with that," I say, grinning at him. "Shepard already brought her up. For a second I thought she was going to kill me for breaking up with Tali."

"I had to talk her out of unplugging your life support when I first told her," Garrus says, making me narrow my eyes at him. "She thought it was a shame, though. Said that the two of you were cute together."

"Yeah," I nod. "We were. Can't form a relationship on cute, though." Garrus gives me a questioning look, tilting his head a fraction, making me sigh and shake my head. "Look, Tali was nice, but we rushed into it. Neither of us really knew what the fuck we were doing. Then she went back to her people, I went to Omega, we grew up. By the time we broke up…I dunno. It's like we were dating entirely different people."

"I didn't say I was judging you," the turian chuckles. "It's none of my business. Besides, I like you with Melanis. It's much easier to ridicule you when I know what female turians are like."

"Well, I'm glad my relationship with her entertains you so much," I say, rolling my eyes. "Though seeing as you're with Shepard and I'm with her, people are going to talk."

"It's hardly our fault," Garrus shrugs. "We can't help it if humans find us so attractive. Must be the voices."

"You know, let's not even get into this," I sigh, shaking my head. "I should probably go and see the rest of the crew, and Chakwas has some exercises for my new arm. She probably won't be pleased if I didn't do them so I could talk about the finer points of turian sex appeal."

"Some other time, then," Garrus says, making me chuckle. "Joker's up in the CIC if you want to see him. I'll let you make your own mind up about our new Cerberus friends."

"That sounds ominous."

"Let's just say you'll miss having Laet look after your weapons," Garrus mutters. Well, he doesn't like Jacob. I guess he can join the vast majority of Mass Effect players.

"I'm gonna go before you make me hate everyone," I say, smiling at him. "At this point, I'm just grateful to be back on a ship."

The turian scratches his fringe, looking away briefly. "Yeah. I just wish we'd left things in a better state."

"All things considered?" I say. "We did a pretty good job, Garrus. Killing the merc group leaders and Umbra is a good legacy. Plus everyone got out. We couldn't have done a whole lot more than we did."

"I know," he nods. "I guess the good things outweigh the regrets." He looks up at me and smiles again. "Besides, I don't know how Shepard could save the galaxy without us."

"We did pretty much carry her last time," I grin. "Right, for the third time, I'm going."

"You sure?" Garrus asks. "I can think of something else to distract you."

"I'll see you later," I laugh, walking out the room as he gives a rumbling laugh and turns back to his calibrations.

That was a relief. The way we left things on Omega weren't exactly great, but it looks like he's willing to give us a clean slate and go back to the way things used to be, which is good by me. With everything that happened after the varren bite, our previous issues seem kinda…petty, I suppose. Apparently, almost dying is a good way to fix relationship issues. Who knew?

I take a quick look to my right as I walk past the kitchen, giving Gardner a brief nod, but I don't go and talk to him just yet. He'll probably offer me some 'chef's surprise', and going off all the comments about him I heard playing ME2, I don't think that's such a good idea. Especially since I only got out the medbay ten minutes ago.

So instead, I go a little further and turn right, looking at the gigantic square door into Miranda's office and taking a deep breath. Seeing Shepard, Garrus and Chakwas again was nice because we already get along, but this…well, I ought to try and make a good first impression. I give a quick knock on the door, but it slides open as I touch the panel, leaving me standing with my fist raised while Miranda looks up at me.

Now it's real life, she is basically the spitting image of Yvonne Strahovski, but I push that to the back of my head. Appearance is where the similarities end; this isn't a game, she isn't an actor. Getting hung up on my old life when I see her isn't the way to go. "Miss Lawson, I presume?" I say, giving her a friendly smile as I walk into the room.

"That's right," Miranda nods, pushing the datapad she was holding to one side as she looks up at me and returns the smile. There's a welcoming aspect to it, and I'm a bit surprised to see it's not completely fake. Then again, I'm not sure why I should be. We're going to be on this ship together for a while, and she's the second in command; it makes sense she's looking to at least get along with whoever's on the crew, even if it doesn't mean we'll be knocking back drinks on shore leave together. More akin to a professional relationship rather than friends. "And you must be Mr Shaw. Good to meet you." She stands up and reaches out a hand, which I take and shake. Yep. Definitely professional. "I'm glad to see your surgery went well."

"Just Ian," I say, as she beckons to a seat opposite her desk and I sit down. "And not half as glad as I am." I glance at the arm, smiling to myself as I manage to make the end of my fourth finger twitch slightly. Progress! "It still barely works, but Chakwas reckons I should give it a week and I'll be ready to go."

"Excellent," Miranda nods curtly. "Alliance and C-Sec mission reports speak highly of you, and your time on Omega speaks for itself. I think you'll be a valuable addition to the ground team."

I settle back in the chair, raising an eyebrow. "You've read my files?"

"Are you surprised?" Miranda asks coolly.

"No, not really," I reply. "Can't exactly blame you for wanting to know who you're working with."

"The Illusive Man only prepared dossiers on Archangel and Archdemon," she explains. "Once we found out who you really were, it was even better. We'd been hoping to get some of Shepard's old team."

"Why?" I ask, feeling a touch cynical. "For the experience, or to make Shepard feel better about being on a Cerberus ship?"

"The Commander has already said she's willing to put differences aside to help the colonies," Miranda says, not rising to it. Not that I expected her to, I just want to see what her explanation is. "Having people she trusts helps make us more effective in the field. Garrus is prepared to work with us too."

"No, he's prepared to work with Shepard, which is my position too," I correct her.

"Of course," she nods. "No-one in Cerberus expects you or Shepard to join up. We just have a mutual goal."

"Then as long as saving colonies doesn't involve terrorist action against other species, I can handle a mutual goal," I say.

Miranda looks satisfied at that, relaxing in her chair. "Good. Though if you have any questions or concerns about Cerberus, I'd be more than happy to discuss them. We're not as evil as a lot of people seem to think."

Well, we'll see if she's still saying that after we blow up the Collector Base. Assuming we all make it out. "I think you might struggle with making me feel any better," I say. "I don't even like the Alliance all that much."

She looks genuinely surprised, clasping her hands together and leaning forward with apparent interest. "You don't?"

"You've seen my files," I shrug. "Garrus and I left C-Sec so we could pursue Saren. Shepard gave us a way to get it done. It was never about the Alliance, so I left after we lost Shepard."

"Can I ask why you don't like them?"

"I've just never been big on the whole pro-human agenda," I explain. "It's why I preferred C-Sec. The law doesn't discriminate between races. I mean, some of the officers do, but at least the option's there to help everyone. I'd rather judge someone individually rather than based of their species. I mean, we need a military force, but it's too intent on humanity. We should help everyone."

"It's a nice view," Miranda says. "But you don't think it's a little naïve? The other races are just as intent on their own agenda as humanity is."

"I'm not entirely convinced that's an excuse for us to join in," I say. "Maybe if someone set a precedent we'd see more progress."

"Can you really see the krogan subscribing to that?" Miranda asks. "Or the batarians? Vorcha?"

Okay, that's a valid point. Most krogan are savages, same for vorcha and batarians. "No," I admit. "Which is why we need a military force. But I don't think a military force should be looking to get us more power than the other Council races. It's about equality, not domination."

"I don't see why humanity should restrain its own advancement for the benefit of other races," Miranda replies. "Neither does Cerberus."

I sigh, trying to think of a counter argument, but then I stop and shake my head, chuckling. "You know, maybe we should just agree to disagree."

"I think that might be best," Miranda nods. "It's what Shepard and I agreed on earlier." It's not like either of us is going to convince the other our argument is correct, and besides, I know Jack and Tali are going to have Miranda tearing her hair out later, so I really don't need to add to her stress. "As long as you can work with me without letting your feelings about Cerberus get in the way, I can do the same for you."

"Sounds fair," I nod, getting to my feet. After that, I'm not really sure if there's a whole lot else to say to Miranda, at least for now. I think I've made a good impression, though; at the very least, we have an understanding of each other. I may not agree with Miranda, but I do have a lot of respect for her. "It was nice meeting you, Miranda. I'll leave you to…" I glance at the datapad, not entirely sure what's on it. "Whatever it is you were doing."

"Just a mission report about Omega," she explains. "If you need anything else, my door's usually unlocked."

"Alright, cheers," I say. "Catch you later." I walk back out into the living area, running through who I still need to see. Jacob, Joker, Kelly, Mordin, Kasumi and Zaeed…I sigh, trying to move the fingers on my left hand again, getting a few twitches out of them. This is gonna take a while. Seeing as I don't know where Kasumi is, I should probably go and see Kelly and get some directions. Besides, meeting the ship psychiatrist might not be such an awful idea, now Monteague's not around.

When I get to the elevator, I'm actually a little surprised to see Zaeed on it, scowling at me for slowing down his journey as I head over to the control panel and look over at him. "CIC?"

"I'm not going to Shepard's guddamn cabin," he replies. "Work it out yourself."

"CIC, then," I mutter. I always thought Zaeed was cool, but he knows exactly who Garrus and I are; mercenary killers. Admittedly we fucked up the Suns, which I'm sure he's grateful for, but we've ended a whole lot of bounty hunters just like him. Bounties aren't always put out on bad people, after all. Plus he doesn't really seem like the type to appreciate do-gooders. "Zaeed, right?" He gives a small nod. "What's a bounty hunter doing on a suicide mission?"

"Getting paid," he replies. "Suicide missions always pay well. How about you? Omega doesn't need its knight in shining armour?"

"Big colonies getting abducted seemed a little more important," I say, looking at him again. Zaeed's scowling at me, but since that's his default expression, I'm not overly concerned. "Surprisingly, we're not all in it for the money."

Zaeed shrugs. "It's a job. You want to feel better since you're doing it 'cos it's 'right', be my bloody guest. We both walk out the other side of this the same, I'm just the one with more credits." He looks me up and down. "Well, I'm guddamn walking out. Don't know about you."

"I made it through Omega and taking down Saren," I reply. "My record isn't exactly bad."

"We hadn't found you when we did, you'd be varren food," he says, shaking his head. "Omega doesn't mean shit. There's worse places in the Terminus you could be, trust me."

I raise my eyebrows and give him a small smile as the elevator doors open at the CIC, feeling a little sick of the insults. "Tell you what; at some point, you pull up your rocking chair and slippers, I'll sit down, and you can tell me all your really impressive war stories."

I expect to get a reaction out of him, but Zaeed just smirks at me. "I must have seen a thousand cocky pricks like you. Think some fancy armour and a sword makes you special?"

"You ever been on the wrong end of an HVB?" I ask him.

"Had some asari try," he replies coolly. "Blew the dumb bitch's head off from about ten metres away. You're about a thousand years behind the times."

"Of course, thousand years," I nod. "That must seem like yesterday to you, right?"

Zaeed chuckles again, brushing past me as he walks out the elevator. "Normally I'd make a threat about killing you, but I know the first guddamn Collector we see is gonna do it for me."

"I think I might cut it in two, just to prove a point."

"Fine," Zaeed says, not even looking around as he walks towards the armoury. "But I'm not picking up your corpse when you try."

"Didn't expect you to," I murmur, standing in the elevator and waiting until he turns into the armoury. Making friends already, Ian. Great.

I look over to the right of the galaxy map, noticing that Kelly Chambers is already looking and smiling at me. I'm not sure going from the grumpiest member of the squad to the bounciest is such a good idea, but at this point, it's not really like I can blank her and come back later.

"Hi," I say, and I don't have to force the smile as I walk over to her. Kelly's great. Considering it's a ship full of trained and experienced killers, having someone without any of that shit on their mind does give off a sort of infectious enthusiasm. Least for me. I doubt some of the others would agree. "Shepard said you were the Yeoman?"

"That's right," she nods, giving my hand a firm shake. "Kelly Chambers. Just call me Kelly."

"Just call me Ian, then," I reply, our hands dropping back to our sides. "What is it a Yeoman does? I don't remember the SR-1 having one."

"I mostly keep the Commander abreast of any messages she receives and fill an administrative role for her," she explains, still smiling away. I get the definite sense she likes meeting new people. "But I'm also trained as a psychologist. I monitor the psychological state of the Normandy's crew, and I can offer counsellor support when people need it. Anonymously, of course."

"Oh, a psychiatrist?" I say, feigning surprise in order to make conversation. Man, I hate 'introducing' myself to people I already know about. "That's good. We never had that on the first Normandy."

"Did you want one?" she asks curiously.

"Oh, no," I reply, shaking my head. I needed Monteague when it came to Omega, but…well, I'm past that now. "I just mean things can get a bit stressful. It's nice knowing there's someone qualified to talk to if anyone needs it."

"Well, if you ever do need anything, let me know," Kelly says. "My mail address is loaded up on the terminal in your room in the main battery, along with the rest of the crew's."

"You put me in the main battery?"

"Shepard assumed you wouldn't mind being there, since it's where Garrus spends a lot of his time," she tells me. "Plus he sleeps in the captain's quarters."

"Ah, yeah, good point," I nod. Guess Shepard didn't waste any time letting the crew know about her and Garrus. Good for them.

"Feel free to point the non-human squad members towards me if they need anything, by the way," she adds. "I'm trained in the culture and psychology of almost every species."

"Even better," I nod. "Kind of a surprise for a Cerberus ship, but it's good."

"Being interested in advancing humanity doesn't mean ignoring the other species," she says happily. "I don't want to see us fall behind them, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate them at the same time."

After my debate with Miranda, I don't really feel like getting into the finer of points of 'raagh Cerberus is a terrorist organisation are you serious', so I focus on something else instead. "Here I was thinking I wouldn't find anyone interested in alien culture on this ship," I smile.

Kelly nods. "Shepard told me you were closer with the non-humans on the SR-1 than almost anyone else."

"Big galaxy out there," I say. "Seems a waste not to try and explore all the different cultures in it."

"Exactly!" she grins enthusiastically. "All the different people, planets, their stories and languages and foods…" Kelly stops, scratching her hair and smiling awkwardly. "Sorry. I'm getting nerdy."

I laugh, leaning against the galaxy map railing. "Nerd away, I'm the exact same about it."

"I just find it bizarre that less than a hundred years ago, we were still doubting whether there was even life out there," Kelly says, leaning back on her terminal too.

"Must have been entertaining for the asari to watch," I point out, making her laugh. "Bunch of primitives with cars that didn't even fly."

"Not so entertaining when we started a war with the turians," she replies.

"Yeah, they probably weren't laughing too much at that point," I nod. "But it's been…interesting, I guess. You grow up seeing many of them?"

"Oh, yeah," Kelly nods. "Grew up on a colony in Council space, but we were near some turian colonies too. I saw them all the time. It was a busy trading post, so there was a lot of salarians, asari, a few krogan for guarding some of the more valuable cargo. Every so often, we'd see the odd drell and quarian." She gives a little smile and glances down, embarrassed. "Some days I'd just go and sit there, watch the ships come in, see the people. I guess that's kind of sad."

"No, it's not," I say firmly. "God knows if I'd had the chance, I'd have done the same."

"You didn't see many aliens when you were younger?"

"Nope," I reply, sighing and shaking my head. Guess I'd better rattle off the practiced lie. "I lived on Earth, but only in this small town, out in the middle of nowhere. I mean, we learned about them in school, saw them in the vids, but it was a totally human town. Only time I ever saw anything different was going into the cities, and it's not like I had any non-humans to talk to. Then I end up on the Citadel and working for C-Sec." I chuckle to myself. "The culture shift was an experience."

"I can imagine," Kelly says. "I'm just glad you weren't scared away."

"Course not," I smile, thinking back to a story I had back in my Earth days. I guess I can change a few details so it makes sense… "When I first joined up, C-Sec gave me all these manuals about different species and how to deal with them. All about customs, cultures, everything like that. We had a couple of weeks to prepare for an exam on it before they let us loose on the job."

The real origin of this story was me sitting at home with an iPod, WiFi connection and the Mass Effect wiki page open. I'd only just started playing the second game, and I didn't have a damn clue what was going on, so I resolved to look up and read about every species. Guess Kelly wasn't the only sad one when she was younger, but whatever. Admittedly, C-Sec _did _provide us with these materials, but it's not why I remember it.

"You had most of the other officers grumbling about having to do it," I continue. "A lot of them just wanted to get out on the streets and start their work. I mean, I did too, but…" I smile to myself, remembering how long I stayed up reading. Must have been from about eight pm to three am, looking at turians, drell, asari, everyone. "It was one of the best things I ever did at C-Sec. I stayed up far too late reading them, bugged Garrus about things I didn't understand, kept the books when the course finished and read them again. When it came to the exam, I passed with full marks." To be honest, that interest is probably what kept me alive at first. Or at least kept me from going crazy. Wanting to throw myself into the 'game' and understand everything kept the realities away. "We're sharing a whole galaxy. I don't think it's sad getting to know who we're sharing it with, that's all."

Kelly positively beams at me for saying that. "Shepard said I'd like you."

"Did she?" I ask, putting on a pretend frown. "I'll have to tell her to stop doing that. She's ruining the badass vigilante image."

"I think that story put the final nail in the coffin," Kelly replies, making me laugh as I step off the rail. "Sorry, we got completely sidetracked there. Was there anything you wanted to ask?"

"Oh, I enjoyed that, don't worry about it," I say. I know where everyone on the ship is…except Kasumi. That'd be good to know. "You know where Kasumi is? Shepard mentioned that she wanted to see me."

"She's in Port Observation," Kelly informs me. "Oh, and Mordin Solus said he was looking for you. Asked if you could meet him in the science lab when you have a moment." She gestures over her shoulder at the door with 'science lab' emblazoned above it. There's a sarcastic comment on the tip of my tongue, but I'd feel bad saying it.

"I'll nip in and see him in a minute," I say, looking up at the cockpit. "But I ought to go and catch up with Joker while I'm still here."

"Okay," Kelly says cheerily. "Nice meeting you, Ian."

"You too, Kelly," I say, smiling before I head around the galaxy map and up towards the pilot's chair. I expected her to be nice, but…wow. She's _really _nice. After Zaeed grumping at me, that was kinda refreshing. Hopefully Joker'll be the same-

"Hi, stranger," Joker says, spinning his chair around to look at me as he grins, adjusting the SR-2 cap. "Do we know each other?"

I raise an eyebrow, not entirely sure how to react to that. "Joker, what're you getting at?"

"Oh, nothing," he replies innocently. "I think I vaguely remember someone that looked like you on the SR-1, but I'm not entirely sure, because most of the crew came up and talked to me and you never did…"

"I talked to you loads," I protest, trying to ignore Joker's piercing look. Okay, so maybe I didn't get a whole load of conversation in with him between missions, but I didn't realise he was keeping track. "Besides, I'm sure you remember my impeccable taste in ice cream."

"Ohhh, that's who you are!" he grins, in pretend revelation. "Now I remember. The only time you came up to see me was to threaten to break my arms."

"Offer still stands," I shrug. "Besides, I'm pretty sure everyone on the SR-1 must have done that at least once."

"Shepard managed the most," Joker says. "Seven times. I kept track in case I ever got short of credits and wanted to sue for compensation."

I laugh at that, shaking my head. "If you'd done that, she wouldn't have just got your arms."

"That did weigh into my decision not to bother," he says. "Except now we're on a suicide mission, and everyone's stress levels are going to be running high. I'm expecting to break the record this time around."

"I'm honestly not sure whether I should wish you luck or not."

"Everyone takes it out on the cripple, I don't need luck," Joker smiles. "Speaking of, nice new arm. I'm surprised Cerberus didn't plaster their logo all over it, though. They've done it everywhere else."

"Yeah, I noticed that," I mutter. They never were much good with subtlety, especially for a secret organisation, come to think of it. "Then again, it looks like you hit the Normandy gift shop pretty hard," I add, looking at his new cap. "Do you have branded headwear put into your contract or something?"

"I managed to get it in during the negotiations."

"I can't imagine there being much negotiating," I reply. "That meeting must have been you bouncing up and down and clapping when they said you could pilot the Normandy again."

"Jeff's reaction upon sitting in the pilot's chair was not dissimilar," EDI says helpfully, popping up next to Joker. "I have advised him that this does not fit typical pre-flight procedures."

"And that's why they gave me the cap," he sighs. "To compensate for this. I prefer the quiet type of ship."

"She can't be any worse than Kaidan as a co-pilot," I point out. "I'm pretty sure he's not even qualified to fly, but he was always up here, sat in the seat."

"Yeah," Joker says, frowning. "I'm not sure why he did that either."

"Jeff," EDI interjects. "We will be approaching a mass relay soon. I recommend we undertake the necessary preparation for the jump."

The pilot rolls his eyes before looking at me. "You see what I'm talking about?"

I hold up my hands apologetically, looking at EDI. "Sorry. Didn't mean to distract him. I'll leave you guys to it." Joker gives me a despairing look, but I just make a whipping noise and wink at him, which quickly turns the look into a glare instead as I grin and walk off.

My eyes flick between the armoury and lab as I walk back towards the galaxy map, but I eventually settle on going to see Mordin first, taking the left branch and pressing my hand to the door panel. Chakwas and Kelly mentioned he wanted to see me, plus Zaeed might still be in the armoury, and I don't really want to talk to him twice. Besides, I'm kind of eager to talk to Mordin, just because…well, it's him.

"Ah, Ian Shaw," he says, glancing up for a fraction of a second before immediately looking back at his work as I walk in. "Good. Wanted a moment. Arm is working fine?"

"Getting there," I reply. "Chakwas reckons I should give it a week."

Mordin looks up at me properly now, giving his adorable smile as he nods. "Week. Excellent. Most prosthetics expect months of recovery, but cybernetics?" He nods his head a couple of times. "Revolutionary. Fascinating technology."

Yeah, he really isn't any different to what I expected. "I should thank you, actually." I do owe Mordin for his work on me. "You and Chakwas saved my life."

"Mostly Chakwas," Mordin corrects me. "Performed surgery on you while I was being recruited. Merely assisted in stabilising post-operation. Also, was informed saving your life occurs on a monthly basis. Looking forward to being available at the start of the process next time."

"Alright then." I'm not really sure what I can add beyond that. Mordin's still smiling, apparently happy to stand in silence, so I cough and try to push the conversation on. "So, what was it you wanted to see me about?"

"Ah, of course," the salarian nods, practically diving under his research bench and pulling open a drawer…then popping up a moment later with a syringe in hand. "Need to discuss new arm."

"Please tell me that discussion and that syringe are totally unrelated," I say.

"Could tell you that," Mordin replies. "But doctor patient relationship based around trust. Would be breaking trust by lying to you."

"Guess that was a bit optimistic," I sigh. Injections. Yay. "What's the connection, then?"

"Fortunately, connection is simple," Mordin smiles. "Need injection regularly, or suffer rejection symptoms, go into shock, die if left too long."

I stare in horror at the salarian, who's still smiling, but not in a joking way. I'm pretty sure he just said 'die'. Yeah, he definitely did. "Sorry, what?"

"New arm is synthetic," the doctor explains. "Appears organic externally, but entirely different beneath skin. For body to communicate with machine, neuroprosthetic junction is required. Fortunately, organic biochip can be implanted within the brain to fulfil this role-"

I can feel my expression becoming increasingly more disbelieving as I look at Mordin. "You put a chip in my _brain_?"

"Chakwas did," he replies. "As I said, was being recruited at the time. Keep up." I'm sort of gawping at him now, unable to turn my thoughts into words. I'm getting more hung up on the fact Chakwas can perform neuro-surgery than anything else, presumably because the idea of someone accessing my brain is so outlandish. "Issue stems from gilal tissue build up around chip. Will cause elevated levels of cytotoxic-M and DDS-Y enzymes in brain, lead to rejection."

I open my mouth to say something, then run my hand through my hair and shake my head. I need to try and at least rationalise this first. "So the antigens don't much up with…uh…"

"Put simply, foreign matter will be detected by body," Mordin says. "Phagocytes don't fit antigens. As a result, brain tries to heal itself. Build up of gilal tissue is like…like nerve scars. Interferes with neuroprosthetic junction. Causes rejection. This drug," he says, looking towards the syringe. "Breaks down scarring. Absolutely vital. Must take dose weekly."

"I've never heard of this before," I reply. "I've seen people with prosthetic limbs before, and I never heard about…brain scarring, rejection."

"Most prosthetics are non-cybernetic," Mordin says, and I'm at least grateful he's being patient with me. "Made of hypoallergenic material. Do not require same level of control as those needed for combat purposes; no rejection symptoms."

"You couldn't have just given me them?"

"As I said. Not suitable for combat purposes." Mordin pauses. "Entirely possible to revert to them. However, use to the mission would be negated. Would no longer be able to fight."

I sigh again. I thought the new arm was…a gift, I guess. No drawbacks. Couldn't have got that one more wrong. Now, unless I take whatever this drug is once a week…I'll die. I'm sure Mordin and Cerberus have a full stock, but it's hard to really take in.

I can't change it, though. If the price of helping Shepard and saving colonies is an injection once a week, so be it. I'll learn to cope. God knows the past four years has been me learning to cope with worse. "Alright," I nod. "I understand. Just wish someone had asked me first."

"No need for injection now," Mordin tells me. "Wanted to inform you of situation. Next dose required in six days time. Will remind you when necessary." He pauses. "There are benefits. Cybernetics open to further improvement."

"I spent the last year or so trying to stay human, Mordin," I say. "Superhuman is too much of a stretch now."

"As I said. Informing you of situation."

"Thanks." I give him a small smile, looking at my left arm again. In a way, it's hardly changed since the varren bite. Now it's just killing me slower. "Was there anything else?"

"No, said all I needed to," Mordin replies, looking back to his work. "Look forward to working with you in the field, Ian."

"Yeah, me too," I murmur. I wait until I'm out of the lab before I lean against the wall, closing my eyes. It's an injection once a week. Really, it shouldn't be that big a deal. But this is the first time that, when I've been injured, they've not managed to do a perfect job putting me back together. It's not possible to do a perfect job with it. Like it or not, I'm going to be reliant on these injections for the rest of my life.

Once a week. I open my eyes again and push off the wall with my good arm. That's what I need to focus on. When I look at it in real terms, it's not that bad. I'm lucky to be alive, after all; this is a small price to pay for that. I'll deal with it. Not like I have a choice not to.

I go through the armoury door, but as soon as I see Zaeed stood there talking to Jacob, I just give them both nods of greeting and walk straight through and back into the CIC. I can go back and introduce myself to Jacob later when he's by himself. It's not like I've got anything interesting to talk to him about anyway.

The elevator is mercifully clear this time, letting me head straight back down to the crew quarters and towards Port Observation. It was always locked when I played ME2, so at the very least, it'll be interesting to see what it's like inside. The door panel's green, so I knock on the door a couple of times to announce myself before walking inside.

I raise an eyebrow as I look at the decorations. Potted plant, several plush looking sofas, a fully stocked bar to the right and all manner of artwork and fancy looking things to the left. Kasumi's sat on the sofa next to the window looking out into space, looking up from beneath her hood, and I see her painted lips curl up as I walk in. "I'm guessing you got first room choice, then?" I say.

"I needed space for my things," she replies. "Shepard suggested this place."

"And that bar was just an added bonus," I chuckle, gesturing towards the artwork. "Nice collection, though."

"There's a story behind all of them," Kasumi smiles. "Lots of fond memories. You really haven't lived until you've pulled off a museum heist."

"Heist?" I look back to her, before I finally twig on what she means. "You're a thief?"

"Relax, your credit chit is safe," she laughs. "Not that you're making it hard for me to take, but we're colleagues, after all."

"You do know I used to work for C-Sec, right?" I ask, but I give her a smile to show I'm not being really serious about it. A thief is…unexpected. I should really disapprove, but stealing fine art always struck me as a bit less harmful than domestic robbery and mugging. Plus she helped me out on Omega.

"Oh, I know," Kasumi nods. "I actually remember looking up you and Garrus a few years back when I was doing a job on the Citadel. I like knowing who I've got coming after me. Though now that I think about it, I might have done you a favour stealing The Persistence of Memory."

I burst out in a grin as she says that. "That was you?" I laugh, then step forward to shake her hand. "We knew the salarian who got it brought to the Citadel had someone steal it from Earth, but he kept producing all this paperwork proving he owned it, and liaising with the police back on Earth was a total nightmare. And then…"

"One second it's there, the next it's gone," Kasumi nods. "You were right, he did have someone steal it for him. The gallery hired me to bring it back. Privately, of course."

"Hey, Garrus and I thought we were gonna be bogged down in that crap for months," I say. "If the museum got it back, I'm happy. We actually went out for a meal to celebrate it getting sorted for us."

"Glad I could help two officers of the law," Kasumi says, with just the right touch of sarcasm. "Never thought I'd be working with them, though."

"I'm sure there's already a sitcom writer somewhere making a show out of this," I reply. "Garrus and I don't really work for C-Sec anymore, though, so don't worry. Plus we're out of Citadel jurisdiction."

"Good, because that would make what I'm going to suggest to you a lot more awkward," Kasumi nods. "Garrus and Shepard told me you've had some infiltration training, did some undercover work on Omega?"

Looks like my first mission back with the SR-2 might be an undercover one. That's not what I was expecting, but I'm not opposed to it. Beats explosions and danger. "That's my speciality, yeah."

"Perfect," she smiles. "Now, do you know what a graybox is?"

"Nope," I say apologetically.

"It can record a person's memories," she explains, leaning back on the sofa as I sit on the spare cushion. "The one we're looking for has the memories of someone I knew on it. Keiji Okuda. He was killed by a weapons dealer, Donovan Hock, for the information that was on it."

Oh, that's not so great… "Sorry to hear that," I say. "I take it we want to get it back?"

"Keiji had it encrypted, and Hock will be trying to break into it," she continues. "However, he's also throwing a party in ten days, for all the greatest and most deranged criminals the galaxy has to offer."

"A whole convention of bad guys," I murmur. "Sounds like my kind of scene. You think we can slip in then?"

"Keiji's encryption is too good for Hock to get by in that amount of time, so yes, we'll be using that to infiltrate his vault," Kasumi nods. "I'm not sure if I'd say 'slip in', though. It's an undercover mission, not a stealth one."

"Do I get to be a great and deranged criminal?"

She laughs, nodding again. "Yes, Ian, you do. I'm already working on your Badass Weekly article."

"English accent helps too," I point out. "Everyone automatically assumes I'm evil. Even if it's a bit more Northern than most people recognise."

"Still, that's even better," she smiles. "We can plan the finer details over the course of the week, but I wanted to check if you were available for it."

"This Hock guy sounds like a dick," I say bluntly. "And the graybox seems important to you. I'm in. Messing with criminals and mercs is pretty much how I've made a living, after all."

"Glad to hear it," Kasumi replies. "I'll work on the planning stages more now that I know there's a second person onboard. Thanks."

"As long as you don't mind me doing some arm exercises, I'll stick around and help," I offer. "Two minds are better than one." And it helps keep my mind off the chip in my brain.

"Sure, that'd be nice." Kasumi opens her omni-tool to project plans of what I assume is Hock's mansion, and she starts pointing to different things as I watch.

It's probably going to be a long week getting back into things. Wrapping my head around what I know is coming, what's happened to me, this undercover mission with the only character I don't know about, hearing back from the Omega squad, getting the new arm to work.

But I never thought it would be easy. As much as the SR-2 feels like home, as much as this new crew is going to become my new family, the fact remains; it's a suicide mission, and we're going to be facing danger almost every day. What I know for sure is that this is where I belong now. To help Shepard, stop the Collectors and fight the Reapers, I can handle it.

So I smile at Kasumi, settling back onto the sofa and looking over the plans. Sure, it'll be a long week. But given what it's building up to, I think I'm fine with waiting it out.

**A/N: Again, sorry this took so long! I have coursework and university stuff hanging over my head, so I'm juggling time commitments a fair bit recently. Plus Metal Gear Rising and the Citadel DLC. The good news is I'm basically devoting my time from now on into getting my coursework out the way, which means I can give MtM more work. So it might be another long wait for the next chapter, but faster updates after that.**

**The science behind the arm was based upon consulting with Atreyu429, and the Deus Ex wiki, using the articles on mechanical augmentation, the PEDOT cluster array and Neuropozyne, for anyone who wants more information. Since this level of prosthetics currently doesn't exist, Deus Ex offered the best scientific explanation and theory behind the likely situation with Ian's arm. No, this does not mean I'm going to be bringing more Deus Ex stuff into the story; it's purely to explain the science of prosthetics in 2185. **

**Thank you all for the incredible feedback on chapter one, as well. To address everyone, I'm really happy to be back and see you all so eager to read the story. It's humbling. Hopefully I can live up to everyone's expectations.**

**See you next chapter.**


	3. Ian vs The Thieves

Chapter 3

Black & Gold: Sam Sparro

_Charles Carmichael. The Cybernetic Ninja. Stormblade. Darkstalker. The galaxy knows him by different names, but all say the same thing; get on the wrong side of this week's Badass, and he'll be the last thing you never see. He's been sighted across the galaxy, from central stations and planets like the Citadel all the way out to Omega and Tuchanka, usually after dispatching his foes with deadly efficiency and a sword some claim is made from lightning itself; eliminating whole platoons of fighters without needing to fire a single bullet. Other reports speak of an invisible assassin, capable of passing through entire buildings without a trace, leaving his targets unaware of their perilous situation until the lightning strikes._

_Yet who is Carmichael, really? Who does he work for, what are his goals? Badass Weekly is able to reveal he's the CEO and sole field agent of a small private agency known as Splinter; priding himself upon the promise that one man your enemies can't see can do infinitely more than an army in clear sight. No group we contacted admitted using Splinter, yet Carmichael has a known record for eliminating criminal groups that police and government agencies can't handle, assassinating high level mercenary leaders, and in one legendary instance, destroying a two-hundred strong batarian mercenary group and their entire headquarters in less than half an hour, a contract rumoured to have originated from rival Eclipse mercenaries. Splinter and Carmichael have no clear mission statement; the extortionate fee required for their services seems incentive enough. Yet with a perfect record of success and the promise of quick, clean problem solving, Splinter seems an increasingly logical route for governments and mercenaries alike._

_However, his work in the field isn't the only thing leading to Carmichael's Badass spot this week. Few people know him personally, yet rumours follow everywhere he goes. Despite having no sex drive, extranet searches reveal salarian 'fanpages' for him, and numerous sightings on Palaven have suggested a somewhat intimate relationship with a turian Primarch. Speculation on Omega states that he's broken Omega's first rule…in more ways than one. Indeed, one Citadel tabloid news network reported allegations that after a raucous party (which he funded) he bedded a krogan diplomat and hanar-_

"A hanar?" I ask, snapping my head up from the datapad and glaring at Kasumi as she looks out the car's windshield, smiling innocently. "Why would you write that?"

"It makes you a talking point," she replies. "I thought that was the idea."

"It was great up until then," I say, rolling my eyes and putting the datapad away before I can scar myself any further. "Then it turns into some weird fanfiction thing. And why have I slept with so many guys?"

"Like I said, it's a talking point." Kasumi looks at me this time as she flashes a wider smile. "Maybe you should have written your own sex life instead of making me stay up late to handle it myself."

"I knew I should've read this before you published it," I sigh. Everyone at the party's either gonna be staring at me in awe for my sword based abilities, or staring in a disgust at my alleged perversions. Jesus, I _really _hope there aren't any hanar there. The futuristic party suit I'm wearing is already making me feel way too self-conscious. "Fingers crossed people don't ask to see my arm. Or any sword tricks."

"Relax," Kasumi says, going back to driving. "Your sword's in the Saren statue we sent over already, as well as all the other gear. Plus Hock's having this party to celebrate himself. He'll make sure he's the centre of attention, not you. The article was mostly just to get us invites. How's your arm doing, though?"

I lift up my left arm, flexing the hand and smiling. At least this can cheer me up. "Good as new. Which I guess it is." It's been an awkward week trying to get it to work, advancing from basic finger movements to being able to flex the synthetic muscles, all the way up to firing a gun, climbing, hand to hand combat and acrobatic manoeuvres. Calling the programme 'intensive' feels like an understatement, considering even Melanis never had me training that long or that hard before, but now I can move the new arm it seems worth it in hindsight. Sure as hell didn't at the time, mind.

Aside from that, things on the Normandy have been pretty normal. Asides from eventually managing to say hello to Jacob when he was in the gym at the same time as me, it's honestly been a quiet week. The arm programme didn't leave me much social time, and when I had breaks for meals or free time in the evening, I was too tired to really talk to anyone beyond casual chit-chat. Still, I'm going to be on the SR-2 for some time yet, so I can work my social magic now everything's back to normal. As normal as it can be, anyway. Mordin gave me my first injection a couple of days ago, which was…I dunno. Odd. Aside from the syringe being quite sore, I didn't feel any different for it, but I suppose that's kind of the idea.

We've been docked on the Citadel for a few days too, while Shepard runs around trying to smooth things out with the Alliance and the Council. From what I remember, she was supposed to only have one meeting with the Council to get her Spectre status reinstated, but these past few days everyone's been wanting a piece of her. Considering the Alliance and Council thought she was dead these past two years, I guess that shouldn't be too much of a surprise, but the only thing Shepard seems to getting from it is a headache. Comes back aboard the Normandy looking more and more haggard each time. I've not really been able to check up on her, but from the few things I have heard, the Alliance isn't particularly happy about Cerberus, and the Council are stalling on her Spectre status. With luck, the political system should spit out a decision for us in the next day or two.

On the bright side, Donovan Hock's party mansion is on the planet Bekenstein, located in a system neighbouring the Citadel, so it's easy enough for Joker to take Kasumi and I out near Hock's mansion and let us fly the rest of the way in the car. Kasumi had the bizarre and ingenious idea of hiding our combat gear within a statue of Saren she already sent ahead, so at least if things go south, we've got a contingency. It's too bad I can't tell Kasumi that Saren's still out there, though. I can imagine the bastard turian finding it _very _entertaining that I essentially helped fund a statue of him.

"Glad to hear it," Kasumi smiles. "It should be fairly simple when we get in. You can mingle with the guests while I weigh up security and work out the best way to get through. Then we pick up the greybox, and get out of there."

"Sounds easy enough," I nod. "And I guess a domestic vault must be a piece of cake compared to art galleries, right?"

"Exactly," the thief replies. "Though we should still be careful. Hock's not going to give up the greybox easily."

"You said it had Keiji's memories on it, right?" I ask, looking at her. "Why's that so important to him?"

"It's not just his memories," Kasumi replies, shaking her head. "Keiji…he'd uncovered something big before he died. He didn't tell me what it was, just that it could implicate some very important people. And to someone like Hock, information like that is worth money. A _lot _of money. So he'll be looking to protect it."

"Too bad he's got a master thief coming after him."

"Exactly." We sit in silence as she starts to descend through the cloudline, and Hock's mansion looms out of the windshield, making me roll my eyes at the extravagant glass structure, towering above the surrounding houses and lit up like a Christmas tree, presumably so no party guests mistake any of the surrounding hovels for Donovan Hock's pad. That would be a disaster. "There it is."

"Kind of assumed," I reply, making Kasumi smirk. "I really hate the ones who treat mercenary work like a white collar job. There must be so much evidence in there, if the police looked…"

"That's not likely to happen," she explains. "He wouldn't have settled down here unless the police are in his pocket."

"Oh good," I mutter. "Having the whole of Bekenstein PD on us if we mess up sounds like a blast."

"Don't mess up, then," Kasumi says, smiling to herself again as we enter the final descent towards Hock's mansion.

"Oh, right, already putting the onus for failure on me," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Cheers. You messing up isn't a possibility?"

"Nope," the thief says cheerily, bringing the cruiser down as I shake my head. "You have the hardest job."

"I do?"

"Not punching Hock whenever he opens his mouth," Kasumi says, and I notice there's the faintest hint of venom behind that. As much as she keeps it under the surface, she hates Hock. Considering he killed her best friend, and probably lover from what I can gather, can't say I particularly blame her. She touches down on a white tiled landing pad, leading to a veranda area and large steps leading into the glass fronted mansion. I can already see the Saren statue near the steps, presumably ready for transportation by the human guy scanning it with his omni-tool. Kasumi assured me the statue was scan-proof, but even so, I can feel a little lurch in my stomach as I see him doing that. Doesn't look like he's noticed anything untoward, though.

She pops open the car doors, both of us climbing out at the same time. I was planning on just walking straight inside, but I suddenly pause as I feel the wind hit my face, and fresh air in my lungs. Then it hits me; this is the first time I've breathed real air in about two years. First time I've felt a breeze that wasn't coming from a dirty ventilation fan. I shut my eyes and breathe in deeply, surprised at how invigorating it actually is.

Course, when I open them again, Kasumi's giving me a funny look as she holds out her arm. "You aren't going to walk your date in?"

"Oh, course, sorry," I say, quickly linking our arms and slowly making my way towards the house. "Just haven't felt the natural elements in a while. And the last time I posed as someone's boyfriend at a party, she almost broke my hand on the way in."

Kasumi's smile curls higher at that. "She sounds nice."

"Turian girls," I reply, making Kasumi give an understanding chuckle. "Funny thing is, we ended up in a relationship for real."

"You must be a glutton for punishment."

"Oh, you don't even know," I mutter, unable to help smiling to myself as I think about Melanis. Five days until she's due to call in, and I'm counting them down as they happen. I'm looking forward to everyone getting back in touch and being safe, of course, just…her more. A lot more.

"Excuse me, sir?" a guard asks as the two of us walk past the bottom of the stairs, making me look around and see the Saren statue staring right down at us. I get chills for two different reasons there; firstly, having Saren towering above me like this is creepy, and secondly, the guard stopping us is the one scanning it. Balls. It's _supposed _to be scanproof. "I just need to scan this before you can enter the building."

Alright, time to get into badass mercenary persona. I narrow my eyes at the guard, shaking my head. "We saw you on the way in. Scanning it. Several times. You know how an omni-tool works, right?"

I'm surprised to see the guard actually gulp as I turn my attention onto him. I guess that article Kasumi wrote really did have an effect, because I never thought my angry stare was that intimidating. "That's the thing, sir. Nothing's coming up on the scan."

I keep staring at the guard. "That's a problem?"

"Yes, he makes a good point," a new voice says, prompting me to turn and face a guy with the most god-awful chin beard I've ever seen, combined with a goatee and moustache, narrow features amplified by his short black haircut. His accent sounds…South African? I think? I've seen enough of Kasumi's pictures to recognise him as Donovan Hock, though. Guess we're making friends earlier than I'd anticipated. "Why _is _that a problem?"

"It's just unusual, sir," the guard says, sounding even more nervous now his boss has gotten involved. Hock, in the meantime, stares up at the statue of Saren, a small smile on his face as he shakes his head.

"Well, we are in the presence of an unusual man," Hock chuckles, looking back at me. "My apologies." My first instinct is to tell him it's absolutely fine and that he shouldn't worry about it, but the reminder about playing up the whole badass thing encourages me to stay quiet. "Though I should introduce myself. Donovan Hock."

"Charles Carmichael," I reply calmly. Neither of us reach to shake the other's hand. "Sounds like you've heard of me."

"With the amount of attention you've been receiving recently, that can hardly be a surprise," he says. "I'm shocked I only heard of you so recently."

"I preferred to keep things under the radar," I mutter. "Then you cut up one group of batarian mercs and suddenly you're a celebrity."

"I notice you don't have that sword with you."

"Didn't want to make your guests piss themselves."

Hock chuckles, shaking his head. "A shame. I think some of my guests were looking forward to a display."

"I've never been one for showing off," I reply, giving pointed looks at the party decorations scattered around, hiding a grin at the glare it earns me from Hock. "Should we head inside?"

"You may, Mr. Carmichael," he nods. "But I'm afraid I must ask your companion to remain outside." I glance quickly at Kasumi, then back to Hock, not sure what he's playing here. Does he recognise Kasumi? If he does, why's he still letting me in? "You understand, I hope."

I fold my arms, shaking my head. "Can't say I do. What's the issue?"

"I don't like the look of her," Hock says simply. "So she doesn't come inside."

"Well, I _do _like the look of her," I reply. "That's kind of why I brought her with me." Kasumi reaches out quickly and squeezes my arm, making me sigh and step off a bit. I've got to play up the role she made for me, but at the same time, there's no point compromising ourselves over it. She'll just have to be extra careful poking around. I sigh, giving this one to Hock. "But fine. It's your party. The guards aren't going to shoot me for bringing drinks out here later, will they?"

"I'll see what I can arrange," he smiles. "Enjoy the party." With that, he turns and heads back up the stairs, as I roll my eyes and look back to Kasumi.

"Arsehole."

"Me or him?" she asks innocently.

"Take a guess," I reply, even though I do laugh at her comment. "This isn't going to wreck everything, is it?"

"Shouldn't do," Kasumi says. "Your role was to be the talky one, and I can slip in under cloak. It's just annoying. No-one's supposed to know what I look like."

"To be honest, you're not doing yourself any favours with the outfit" I mutter, glancing back. "It does look kind of shifty."

"It's fashionable."

"Maybe he already got the greybox open?" I ask, Kasumi giving a dangerous frown at my comment on her clothes.

"If he knew who I was, he would have killed both of us right there," she replies, shaking her head. "He must be suspicious. Or paranoid. With all the things on that greybox, I can't say I blame him. He'll be expecting people to come after it."

"Makes you wonder why the he'd a throw a party," I point out.

"Oh, you know what mercenaries are like," Kasumi smiles. "A bit of ego-stoking is worth any risk."

"Good point," I admit. "Okay, I'm gonna head in before he starts thinking something's up. Contact me over comm. when you're in, and I'll reply when no-one's looking."

"Sounds good," she nods. "Good luck."

"Thanks." I start to head up the stairs, taking one last look back at Kasumi…except she's already disappeared. Least she's not wasting any time.

I finally push through the main doors and into Hock's mansion, unable to help feeling a tad impressed by the huge carpeted corridor leading into a circular central area. A large water fountain lies in the centre, which the rest of the room essentially seems to rotate around; and an enormous wall window allows the sun to shine through and dramatically silhouette it in front of me. "Show off," I mutter to myself, pressing forward as I try to work out exactly what I should be doing.

There's loads of guests mingling around in little groups of three or four, and I recognise a few faces from C-Sec files and intel gleaned on Omega. I can't see any representatives from the big three merc groups, but lots of little ones seem to be here; from a glance around the room, I can make out no less than fifteen leaders from small companies. Though I'm sure all of the other guests have illustrious criminal careers themselves.

Hock's hanging around in front of the fountain, so I make sure to avoid there, heading left and noting a room with cameras and two guards stood outside, handily labelled with 'security' above the door. Beyond that, a few guests are hanging out in a small library and art area…including a hanar. I quickly swipe a drink from a passing waiter and pray it doesn't sound me as I move to the back of the room, closer to the window.

"_He's got an interesting vault," _Kasumi's voice says into my ear, prompting me to turn my back on most of the party goers and lean on the railing, looking out over the vast, green and chrome expanse of Bekenstein. The people may not be the nicest, but you can't knock the planet itself for that. _"Quite a few layers of security. Password lock with voice recognition, a DNA scanner, and a kinetic barrier thrown in for good measure. The Saren statue has yet to be put inside, you'll be pleased to hear."_

"Well, push comes to shove, I can always grab my weapons and make him open the vault that way," I chuckle.

"_I suspect the guards would have a thing or two to say about that," _Kasumi replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "_It shouldn't be too hard to get through. If you find the power box for the kinetic barrier, I can disable it from there. We can grab DNA samples from Hock's private quarters, and if you chat him up, I can record a voice sample and re-arrange it to say the password."_

"You sure me chatting him up won't scare him?" I ask, smiling. "After that article you wrote for me?"

"_Relax. I made it quite clear you only like alien guys in that." _I sigh and slump on the railing a bit. "_As for finding the password…maybe the security room will have it. I might be able to hack you in there. You brought your sidearm in?"_

"Course," I say. "You think it might get bloody?"

"_Security probably aren't going to let us walk in there," _Kasumi points out. _"I'll try and be non-lethal about it."_

"Alright," I nod. "Just make sure you're ready to shoot if it comes to it."I might not want to kill the guards, but if it's one of them or us getting discovered, I'm shooting every time. "Which one should I go for first?"

"_I can set your omni-tool to scan for electromagnetic fields so we can hunt down the power," _Kasumi says. "_I'll look at getting us into the security room while you do that."_

"Alright. I'll let you know when I find something," I say, looking down at my omni-tool as it flashes, and I accept a download from Kasumi. A few moments later, it opens up a display of the room visible from its internal camera, except there's bright blue lines for where the power source must be coming from. Guess I'd better follow them-

"I heard Archangel and Archdemon fled Omega," I hear a regal sounding woman say as I start following the line towards Hock's library area. "Good riddance to them."

"Indeed," a human guy standing with her nods. "They were setting a dangerous precedent, for all of us. Open rebellion on the streets of my city because of them. Can you even imagine?"

"That sounds awful," a third member of the group, salarian this time, says sympathetically. "People don't appreciate what mercenary groups do for them. All the attention on Archangel had my local government consider pulling our security contract, you know." There's sharp intakes of breath from around the group, but the salarian shakes his head, smiling. "I called in a few favours. And this news of them running away certainly helped."

I look back down at the omni-tool, then to the group again. I shouldn't say anything. I really, _really _shouldn't. "I was just on Omega, actually," I interject, making them all turn to look at me. I can't help myself. "Where are you all getting your information from?"

"I'm in contact with many high up people in Omega," the male human says pompously. "They keep me informed."

"Right," I reply. "You know some mercenaries who don't want to embarrass themselves. Fair enough. Course, if you actually ask the normal people, or you know Aria well enough to get information off her, you'd probably be aware that the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack are all scrambling around wildly after Archangel assassinated their leaders. And then left to start mopping up the rest of the galaxy." I give the three of them pointed looks. "Just a heads up."

There's an awkward pause. "I think I need to make some calls," the salarian says, opening his omni-tool and hurrying away.

"Me too."

"Same."

The humans dash off to make their calls in private too, as I sigh and look back down for the trail.

It's gone.

"_Good work on the power source," _Kasumi says in my ear. _"That should deal with the kinetic barrier."_

"I didn't touch anything," I reply. "The trail on my omni-tool just went dead."

There's a pause on the end of the line. _"Well, that's unexpected."_

"It looked like it was going into the library area," I tell her, starting to follow the path as best I remember. "I'll see what I can find. You keep doing what you were doing."

"_Good advice." _She signs off the comm. as I walk into the library, trying not to look at the hanar, who thankfully ignores me himself. Guess Hock's the only one who actually went to the trouble of reading my article. There's a turian looking at one of the paintings as I walk to the bookshelves. I remember there being a holographic fireplace here, but now there's an electrical panel, sparking as I stare at it. Someone got to this first. What the hell…?

"What are you doing?" a voice snaps behind me, making me whirl around and see one of the Eclipse guards glaring at me, a human male with short blonde hair and an oddly square face. Shit.

"Inspecting the bookcase," I say innocently, as the guard steps closer, not looking placated.

"Sure as hell doesn't look like that," he says aggressively. "I think you should come with me, sir."

"I suppose we should just tell him the truth, Charles," a deep, rumbling voice says, as the turian who was staring at the painting comes and stands next to me, flexing his mandibles politely at the guard. What in the hell… "We were looking through Mr. Hock's book selection when I spilled my drink into what I assumed was a fireplace. It started sparking and slid back into the wall, then this thing did the same, and my lovely human friend here offered to try and repair it before it caused us any embarrassment." He squeezes my shoulder in his hand. "Regrettably, it appears that has failed us." A look of concern flickers across the turian's face. "It's nothing important, I hope? We can pay for the damages."

I can see the guard's mind working overtime as he looks between us. On the one hand, he must know that the electrical panel hooks up to something important. On the other, the turian's excuse is detailed and not half bad, plus arresting two guests who have a solid alibi would probably go against his directive of keeping the party running smoothly. Plus there's still a DNA lock and voice password. He knows if he arrests us and gets it wrong, Hock's going to have him out of a job, or worse. The risks outweigh his rewards.

"No, it just controls the fireplace," the guard says, his voice calming down as he looks between us. The turian even has an empty glass in his hand to back up our story. "I'll have a maintenance team sort it out later. Just…try to be a little careful, okay?"

"Of course," the turian replies courteously, as we both nod. "Sorry to trouble you."

"Enjoy the party," the guard says, and I can see him shaking his head to himself as he walks away. My attention, however, is drawn to the turian, who immediately pulls me back towards the painting and lowers his head to my ear.

"Now, Mr. Carmichael, I think you owe me an explanation of who you are," he rumbles in my ear. Each word is slow and carefully considered, and even for a turian the deep texture to his voice is fantastic. "And what you're doing trying to access our gracious host's vault."

"I could ask you the same question," I murmur back, as his mandibles flex in a small chuckle. Okay. Considering this guy saved me from that guard, he might be friendly. At the very least, not hostile. Plus, if he cracked that power box before we did, he knows what he's doing. "But you're right. I owe you one. I'm looking to recover an item from the vault that Hock stole from me."

"From you?" he says smoothly. "Or your hooded friend standing cloaked on the other side of the room?" I widen my eyes as he says that, making him chuckle again. "It takes a thief to know a thief. You pick out the little signs, the flickers in the air, the hints of a cloak that the normal eye would miss. Besides, it seems odd a C-Sec contraband detective would be out in a place like this, breaking into a vault. A little out of his jurisdiction. Then again, working with a master thief isn't typical either."

He knows who I am? "Alright, stop playing games," I reply. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Rolan Quarn," he smiles. "The law refers to me as a thief, smuggler, con man. I prefer to say that I redistribute wealth from those who don't deserve it, to those who do. Mr. Hock just did me the pleasure of gathering a lot of undeserving people together."

Oh my god. He's like a future Robin Hood, but _turian. _With a distractingly attractive voice. "No wonder you know a contraband detective when you see one. Never really dealt with con men, though."

"I make sure to keep track of who I'm dealing with," he says. "And I always preferred con artist. An artist leaves his mark smiling as he takes their money. Something I pride myself on." He pauses for a second. "Would you prefer Mr. Carmichael, or Mr. Shaw?"

"Just Ian," I reply, sighing. Apparently every thief worth their salt knows me. Wonderful. "Looks like we might have a mutual goal, Rolan. Assuming you're targeting the vault."

"I am," the turian nods. "And I would relish the opportunity to work with the great Ms. Goto. I'm an admirer of her work."

"Can't say I've ever heard of you," a disembodied voice announces from next to him, as Rolan pulls away from me and smiles towards where Kasumi is presumably standing. "I didn't realise we were inviting people along for the adventure, either."

"I assure you, if Hock has stolen something of yours, then I have no intention of taking it myself," the turian tells her. "Our shared goal is to access the vault. From there, we go our separate ways." Kasumi doesn't say anything to that. "I could sweeten the deal by telling you the vault password as well."

Kasumi must be thinking it over, obviously not too happy about sharing this heist with someone else. Rolan seems to know what he's doing, though, especially if he knows the vault password. That'll save us some time. "Alright," she finally says. "That password wouldn't hurt, I suppose."

"Perrugia," Rolan tells us. I have no idea how he got that, but something makes me think he wouldn't tell me even if I asked. "I have yet to obtain a voice sample from Hock that I can convert into saying it. My background story to get in here isn't nearly elaborate enough to catch his attention. Which is where someone with your reputation might be of use." He looks directly at me.

I glance over at Hock, standing at the fountain with his drink in hand, then back at Rolan and the invisible Kasumi. "I'd need at least thirty seconds of his voice to convert it," Kasumi tells me.

"I think I can handle that," I nod. I'm about to head towards the human, before I pause and look to Rolan. "Just so we're clear; the stuff in that article isn't true."

"And here I was thinking your eyes perked up when you saw a turian coming to your rescue," he replies, in that damn voice of his. Not only do professional thieves know who I am, they also know how to wind me up extremely well. Excellent.

Ignoring Rolan's little jibe, I step out of the library area and head out towards Hock. I should probably have a topic of conversation in mind for him, but given how egotistical the man is, I'm sure I won't have to push him too hard. If anything, he'll probably be eager to show off and prove he's the 'better' man compared to me, though I use the term loosely.

"Ah, Mr. Carmichael," he says, turning as I approach and giving an incredible fake smile that can only come after years of practice. "Enjoying the party?"

I could act polite about it and say yes, but that doesn't really lead into more conversation with him. And to be honest, even if I wasn't here to rob the place, I wouldn't be having a great time anyway. "It's alright," I shrug. "A bit tame. I'm a little more used to rowdier stuff."

"Yes, I've heard all about that," Hock says, and I don't need to follow his eyes to know that he quickly glances over at the hanar. "You do appear rather adventurous, Mr. Carmichael, in more ways than one."

I smirk and fold my arms, deciding to just go with it. "Well, you know what they say. Variety is the spice of life."

"Indeed," Hock nods, apparently not wanting to pursue that himself. That sure as hell wasn't thirty seconds. Thankfully, Hock's the one to throw me a bone this time. "I have to say, you rarely see someone who runs his own company and works out in the field."

"I prefer it that way," I explain, locking eyes with the South African. "There's an element of personal responsibility you don't get commanding things from behind a desk. Helps you remember what it is you're fighting for."

"Oh? And what is it you fight for?" Hock asks curiously.

I chuckle, flashing him a smile. "The highest bidder. I just tend to prefer my contracts on the right side of the law. Saves so much time when you're not dodging the authorities. What about you? What are you in this for?"

"The credits have their draw, I will admit," he nods, before spreading his arms out and turning around, as if to address the whole room. "But it's more than that, Mr. Carmichael. The galaxy is full of problems, problems people prefer to ignore. I imagine you've seen plenty of them yourself." I just stay quiet, allowing him continue. "People like you and I, we solve those problems. We take the people of this galaxy without anything, the wandering guns, the dishonoured soldiers, and we give them a purpose. People may call it criminal, they may call it unjust, but they haven't seen what you and I have seen." He turns back around now, making eye contact with me as he moves closer. "We do the terrible things that keep this galaxy spinning, we make the sacrifices that let the ordinary people live their lives." With that, he raises his glass in the air. "So this party is for us. The cleaners. The support structure for the galaxy's gleeful delusions of peace." He gives me one last smile, before addressing the room again. "May there always be a market for the things we do!"

The room erupts into pretentious applause, making me practically strain to not roll my eyes as Hock turns to me again. "Enjoy the party, Mr. Carmichael." I nod politely, but by the time I've walked back into the library area where Rolan's waiting, I'm about ready to explode.

"I hate that guy," I say. "I mean, most bad guys are pricks, but wow. _Wow. _He's taking it to a new level."

"I actually thought he came across as a good orator," Rolan notes. "No doubt a quality that's helped him amass this ill-gotten fortune."

"Just please tell me that was enough," I sigh, looking behind him to take an educated guess at where Kasumi's standing. "If you need more, Rolan's taking it this time."

"Don't worry, that was more than enough," Kasumi replies. "Mr. Quarn was just telling me a way we could get into Hock's private quarters." Is it just me, or does she sound really snarky when she says 'Mr. Quarn'? It's almost like she's jealous.

The turian nods, taking over now. "I talked my way into the security room earlier and had a look around. It allowed me to find the vault password, and also let me see the staff roster and access their communications."

"They let you do that?" I ask, with some confusion.

Rolan chuckles. "I can be charming when the situation calls for it. One doesn't pose as a company CEO for two years without picking up certain skills. I simply borrowed a guard's identification and posed as plain clothes security."

"None of the guards are turian," I point out.

"And none of the guards care enough to inspect an ID card when it's flashed at them," he replies. "Remarkable what you can do with a confident attitude. If you believe you belong somewhere, you'd be surprised how many others believe it too."

I shake my head, smiling as I do. I shouldn't be impressed by all this, but I can't help it. "So that means you can get us into his quarters?"

"Of course," the turian says, smiling back down at me. "Ms. Goto can pose as the formidable Chief Roe when the guard calls to check if we're allowed entrance. Assuming she grants us access, we should be able to get inside and obtain DNA samples at our leisure."

"We could have done that ourselves," Kasumi interjects. "I noticed a path into his quarters by climbing some scaffolding near the back of the room."

"An astute observation," Rolan nods. "But one that would have required fighting the guards posted there. I prefer a defter touch."

"So do I," Kasumi says, sounding offended. "I just-"

"Maybe we should get inside his quarters?" I suggest, even though I'm quite tempted to let them continue. "We can work out who the better master thief is later."

"Sounds like a good idea," the turian says, even as I feel the cloaked Kasumi punch my arm on the way past, which makes me grin. She _is _jealous.

It only takes a few seconds for Rolan and I to walk around the fountain and to the large white door leading into Hock's private quarters, attended by a single guard who holds out his hand to stop us. Thankfully, it's the not the same guy who caught us earlier. "Sorry. No-one's allowed into Hock's private area without authorisation."

"Good thing Chief Roe already sorted us out with it, then," I say, as Rolan gives a low purr next to me. I guess the two of us going into private quarters does give off a certain impression, so he's playing along with it.

"We'll see," the guard replies, narrowing his eyes between us as he opens his omni-tool and dials a number quickly, before talking to what I have to assume is Kasumi.

"That purring is really distracting," I mutter to him.

"I'm playing the role," he murmurs back. "It's not my fault you're distracted."

"So you're not aware of the effect a noise like that can have on some people?"

"You said the things in the article weren't true," Rolan chuckles. "So I assumed you weren't one of those people. And that suit you're wearing does make it come rather easily."

The guard drops his omni-tool, and nods to us. "Alright, that checks out. You're clear to go in."

"Thank you," the turian smiles, guiding me into the corridor with his arm, large glass window on our left, stairs leading down to our right. I wait until the door closes before I wriggle free and he laughs.

"That's not funny," I tell him, as we head forward and a tactical cloak flickers out of existence next to us, Kasumi finally coming into view. "Seriously."

Rolan manages to reduce himself to chuckles, flexing his mandibles. "Don't take it to heart. I'm just trying to help you prove a point to yourself."

I raise an eyebrow at him in confusion, but the turian just shakes his head as we continue downstairs, taking a left at the bottom of the stairs into an enormous circular room that must be Hock's bedroom. An enormous double bed sits in the centre of the room, while another curved wall window on the left hand side of the room is adorned with a table and four couches. Directly in front, I can make out a weapon's rack and holographic fireplace, and to the right, there's a desk covered with files, datapads and a terminal. "Alright, let's get looking," I say. "And it's not a competition, you two."

"I never said it was," Kasumi says innocently, as she heads over to the table and opens her omni-tool, scanning a drink glass. I pop open mine, glad I've still got DNActive installed as I let it scan the immediate area around me, seeing if anything pops up.

"So you two aren't being competitive with each other?" I ask, smiling between them.

"I'm a great admirer of Ms. Goto's," Rolan says respectfully. "I'm just surprised she didn't think of an easier way into these quarters than fighting guards."

"If you hadn't had us here, your plan wouldn't have worked anyway," Kasumi points out. "It relied on at least two people. And like I said before, I've never heard of you."

"In our line of work, I'll take that as a compliment," the turian replies. I just look down at my omni-tool and pick up samples, deciding to stay out of it. "Though I thought you might have heard about the theft of an entire auction of stolen paintings in October 2184, and their subsequent return to their galleries of origin."

"I missed that," Kasumi says, as I try really hard not to laugh at the playful rivalry they've got going on here. "I was busy myself around that time. I was at a show on Ilium, one of my biggest heists. Security everywhere, cameras, laser tripwires, an army of guards, everything. It only took about an hour for me to get in, take a priceless bust, replace it with a fake, and leave again. They never even knew it was gone. Which is more than I can say for your heist."

"Impressive," Rolan admits. "Though if you're curious to hear about jobs I've completed without anyone noticing, I've posed as, let's think…a stunt driver, sous-chef, martial arts instructor, ambassador, varren tamer, news anchor and a stand-up comedian. All without anyone noticing."

"Never would have guessed that last one," Kasumi says, shooting the turian a sarcastic smile as I scan one of Hock's weapon cases, getting a good sample. "I did an undercover bit of work once myself. Disguised myself as a buyer from some batarian slavers and rescued a child prodigy they had in captivity. She painted me a picture while we were flying back into Council space."

Rolan actually stops in his tracks as he says that, smiling widely. "I didn't think my respect for you could increase any further, Ms. Goto."

"Well, thank you," Kasumi says, and I can see her faintly blushing beneath the hood. Rolan seems content to leave the debate there, as does Kasumi, while I absent-mindedly scan a plant then realise what I'm doing, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

Then a muffled scream sounds out. Then another. Then a whole cacophony of them, accompanied by loud gunshots, the screams winding down into small whimpers. The three of us all look at each other, then burst out of the bedroom, running upstairs towards the door leading into the party hall. The guards that were posted outside the window have all disappeared, as Kasumi and I draw our weapons, and I'm pleased to see Rolan's got his own pistol as we stop at the door. "Let me do this," I mutter to them, still hearing the panicked shouts of guests and yells of others as I crouch at the door, opening my omni-tool and rolling a small, pocket-sized camera under.

Kasumi and Rolan huddle around the omni-tool display, as my eyes widen at what I see. Every guest is being gathered in the centre of the room, heavily outnumbered by shotgun wielding Eclipse mercs. The same guards Hock had posted around the party himself. I can see the party host himself, on his knees with his hands behind his back with a gun pointed at the back of his head. "What the hell…" I mutter, but the two of them shrug as I look back to the screen.

The only guest who isn't on his knees is talking to some of the Eclipse guards, a smug smile on his youthful face, sporting cropped brown hair and a small but visible amount of stubble as he surveys the room with satisfaction. "It seems we aren't the only thieves with designs on Mr. Hock's vault," Rolan murmurs.

"I'm getting that impression myself," I reply, trying to get a closer look at this new guy, before I realise who he's talking to. It's the guard that let us in here. Who's pointing to Hock's private quarters, while a team of three other guards gather around him. _Shit. _There must be at least twenty hostiles in there, and I've only got a pistol. No armour or anything else. It's all in the Saren statue.

Instead of simply cracking the vault, now we've got a mass hostage situation, we're heavily outnumbered, and unequipped. But unless we do something, this new thief is going to get away with the content of Hock's vault. Including the greybox.

Well.

This complicates things a little.

**A/N: For anyone unaware, Rolan Quarn isn't an OC; he shows up in the Citadel DLC during the charity ball, and he's been featured in some Cerberus News Network articles back in 2010. And yes, he's a thief as well as a con artist, it's all in those articles.**

**Sorry about the long delay; again, with this being the build-up to the most important exams of my life, I'm a tad busy on the school side of things. At the very least, I'll try and keep monthly updates (which I know is horribly slow, I'm sorry), with the aim of going faster if I can.**

**See you next chapter!**


	4. Ian vs The Box

Chapter 4

Square Balloons: The Dykeenies

"Get away from the door," I say to Rolan and Kasumi, looking up from my omni-tool screen as the guard who let us in and his entourage start walking towards the entrance to Hock's quarters, clenched jaws and drawn weapons suggesting they're not going to be knocking first. Fortunately we're on the side that has the controls, letting me flick the switch to lock the mechanism, but they're the security team. No doubt that means they'll have a way through. "Alright, back downstairs and into the bedroom. Quick."

Despite the confidence in my tone making it sound like I know what I'm doing, or at least making it sound like that to me, the reality is another thing entirely as the three of us quickly make our way back into Hock's boudoir, taking quick looks around for places to hide. Well, Rolan and I do at least, since Kasumi has already cloaked and vanished somewhere. Honestly, I'm just trying to rationalise how we go from a bit of simple thieving into a situation that could potentially get a whole lot of people killed. Including us. I guess us dying that was always a risk in the first place, but this does increase said risk by a huge factor. "Do you have a weapon?" I ask the turian.

"No," Rolan replies. Great. Only two of us are actually armed, and I've got a pistol with no spare thermal clips. That might be enough to kill one shielded enemy, at best, and that's only assuming I can throw the empty gun at them to finish the job. Considering there's four of them on the way and I have no armour or shields, a straight up fight is looking like a terrible, terrible idea. "I think hiding might be our best option."

"You don't say," I mutter, looking around frantically. Hiding under the bed is a dumb idea, firstly because I'm not ten years old, and secondly because if I was a guard, that's the first place I'd look. Besides, if I did get seen under there, I can't exactly spring into action to defend myself, unless they're willing to let me wriggle my way out first. My one advantage is tactical cloak, but I can't make it last as long as Kasumi's. I really need to find out how she does that...and I really need to concentrate. "Rolan, get behind that big curved sofa," I order, pointing towards it and giving him a small push to get the turian moving, both of us vaulting over and behind it as I hear raised voices coming our ways. Can't fault their sense of dramatic timing.

I steal a tiny peek over the top of the sofa when they burst in, seeing four guards grind to a halt in the doorway with weapons raised, but I don't dare looking any longer. On the bright side, they're the front of house staff, so lightly armoured. No helmets, most importantly. "Spread out, I know they're in here!" one shouts, presumably the guy who let Rolan and I in. I've got my pistol out, but if one of these guys sees us and radios it in, or we fire a shot, there's gonna be a whole lot more than four guards pouring in here. Right now they think we're harmless guests. Let's not clue the rest in until we at least get out this room.

"_You've got one headed your way, another checking around the bed, one peeking around near Hock's desk and the last one's guarding the door,_" Kasumi says into my ear-piece. Course, she's cloaked and safe from all this. Good for her. "_What's the plan?_"

Okay, this is gonna need some expert level whispering. "We need them all down at once," I say, wanting to be as brief as possible. "As soon as I get one of them, handle the guy on the door and move for another." I glance at Rolan, giving him a nod to try and get across that I expect the same of him. "No gunshots, no radio contact with the other guards."

"_Got it_," Kasumi whispers back, and I know the cloaked thief is moving towards the guard I asked her for. I tap Rolan on the shoulder quickly, opening my omni-tool and cloaking in front of him so he knows I'm leaving. The turian simply flicks his mandibles in response, and I start my mental countdown from ten as I stand up and start to pad towards the guard looking near the weapons display. The one heading to the sofa is almost on top of Rolan, while the other guard is thankfully looking under the bed, unaware of his surroundings for now. Got to make this as fast as I can, and the combat knife hanging on the Eclipse merc's waist ought to help with that.

I come out of cloak just as I'm grabbing him around the neck with one arm, yanking the knife out and stabbing hard into the neck area of his armour, making him give an frantic gurgling and weak arm flail as I guide him to the ground silently, looking around to see the door guard fall with an audible smack to the back of his head from an invisible Kasumi. Rolan thankfully catches on to what's happening and emerges from his position, grabbing the surprised guard and throwing him over his shoulder with surprising skill before slamming his foot into his face, and the guard checking out the bed turns just in time to get a decloaking Kasumi's knee in his head, followed by a couple of swift punches that puts him out cold.

"That was a bit more impressive than I expected," I comment, glancing at Rolan as he dusts his taloned hands off above the guard he downed. "I thought you'd just hit him."

"I told you I posed as a martial arts instructor," the turian replies, though his grin seems forced for some reason. "I did have to know what I was doing." Kasumi's looking at me too, and even she's giving me an odd expression.

"That figures," I say, following their eyes down to my hands...and the blood coating them. Theirs are totally clean. "Ah. Yeah. I didn't realise we were going non-lethal when they outnumber us about forty to three." Kasumi and Rolan still look a bit concerned. "Look, when these guys don't show up with us in tow, whoever took over this party is going to send a whole lot more guards in here," I explain, frowning. "We'll be out, but they're going to get back up." I point to the three guards without blood pooling underneath them. "Things are kind of hard enough as it is. Thinning numbers in these situations isn't a bad thing."

"Are you going to cut their throats now, then?" Kasumi asks, gesturing to the unconscious guys, and her tone of voice suggests she's only half-joking. Half being optimistic.

"I didn't want to take any chances with my guard," I reply. "I'm really missing the problem here."

"We just appear to have rather different operating methods," Rolan explains, getting a supportive nod from Kasumi. "Your point about reinforcements was a valid one, though. We should leave here."

Kasumi doesn't look like she's going to pursue it any further, which is fine by me. I can handle a bit of disapproval. Presumably infiltration when you're a thief is a bit less violent than infiltration as a vigilante. "That scaffolding you pointed out earlier might do the trick," I suggest, looking at her. "All the other exits lead straight back into the party. What's left of it, anyway."

"I think we still need a plan after we climb down there," Kasumi points out, as the three of us quickly walk out the open door and towards the windows. Doesn't look like they're the opening kind. "Getting the vault open isn't the hard part. Getting to it is."

"And we need to do it before they get in," I mutter. "Hopefully Hock really values his art collection or whatever there is down there, because I bet they're asking him for access right now."

"Not politely, I assume?" Rolan asks, while I dip back into the bedroom and grab a chair to break the glass with.

"Probably a good assumption," I nod, hefting the chair and then slamming it against the glass. The first hit sends cracks along it, the second increases their size, before the third finally shatters it, letting me drop the chair and kick some of the protruding shards away before we clamber through. My right arm is feeling the effort, but it's conspicuous to me that my left feels totally fine. Cybernetics don't give me super strength or anything, but they certainly lower muscle pain. "I guess you could scout things out in cloak, Kasumi. Rolan and I can hide until you're done."

"Lucky me," Kasumi replies, but at least there's a hint of a smile beneath the hood as she starts to lower herself down the scaffolding, Rolan and I following suit. Kasumi's pretty nimble, to the point where I see her cloaking and moving away just as the two of us reach the bottom. Fortunately this area doesn't seem to act as anything other than a balcony to look over the view from Hock's massive window, so the guards have left it alone. At least for now. This is probably going to get even harder when they find the ones we left in Hock's bedroom.

"This spoils my plans slightly," Rolan sighs next to me. "I was hoping to walk out of here without a fuss."

"Don't really think this one's your fault," I reply, giving him a little smile. I guess since we're just waiting for Kasumi, I could get to know our new ally better. "Isn't a whole vault a bit much for one guy to steal? Unless you parked up here in a cargo ship."

"I was planning on procuring a cargo ship while I was here," the turian explains. "Hock keeps a fleet of vehicles in the lowest floor of this mansion, where the vault is located. It's actually quite expansive down there."

I nod at that, remembering the blueprints Kasumi showed me before we came in here. The vault is just a tiny part of what's downstairs. There's another access point to it down there, though it has the same security measures as up here, so our new thieves won't be able to use it as a shortcut. The rest mostly consists of huge storage areas and hangars for various ships and other vehicles, like Rolan said. "I know, I've seen the floorplan. Big security detail down there too."

"Which explains how there are suddenly so many up here," Rolan replies. "They must have been bought out."

"That's what you get for hiring mercs," I mutter. There's a nice irony in having all these mercenary leaders and criminals being held hostage by an even bigger mercenary group. The way they act sometimes makes our vigilante stuff seem a little pointless, considering the fervour with which merc groups backstab and kill each other. "How were you gonna get past them with your initial plan? I'm guessing Hock's vault isn't stuffed full of pocket sized items."

"I've never seen the interior," Rolan says, "but I assumed as much myself. So I brought this." He pulls out a short cylindrical device with this weird nozzle looking thing on top, something I easily remember from C-Sec contraband days.

"Mass reducer," I nod, feeling a bit annoyed I didn't work that out beforehand. "I'm going to assume you don't have a licence for that."

"I must have left it in my other suit," he replies, chuckling lowly as I roll my eyes at him. "Taking one of the cargo ships would have been simple enough. I trained as a pilot during military service."

"Is there anything you can't do?" I ask, remembering the list of occupations he said he'd carried off earlier.

"Never been able to settle down," Rolan says, smiling.

"Didn't think thieves were often the settling down type," I say. "Moving stops you getting caught."

"I know," he nods. "That's what happened when I posed as Delumcore's CEO. I stayed too long and they caught me." The turian sighs a little again. "Escaping wasn't hard, but it's embarrassing."

"So why'd you stay?"

"I enjoyed it," the turian replies. "Turning the company around, working with everyone there. The CEO salary was more than enough to sustain myself and let me help others without needing to steal from the business. I thought I'd miss all the travelling around, new cons, heists, but...no." He pauses briefly mid-sentence, looking like he's gathering his thoughts. "It was good while it lasted."

"Sounds to me like you'd probably succeed at anything you put your mind to," I shrug. "Could always just start your own business."

Rolan chuckles again, shaking his head. "I don't think so. Delumcore was a one-off. I enjoy this line of the work, and my job satisfaction is somewhat high."

"Right, with the whole stealing from the rich, giving to the poor thing," I nod. The cop part of me is protesting that these people have technically earned that money themselves, but I'm reminded the people Rolan's stealing from here didn't exactly earn it in pleasant ways. Some compulsory charity donations with him as the middle man isn't offending my sensibilities too much. "I'm sure the thrill doesn't hurt either."

"It's an exciting job, certainly," the turian smiles. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't part of the draw. Travelling, meeting new people, seeing new places."

"Getting involved in hostage situations," I add for him.

"I'd like to avoid this sort of thing in future," he replies, grinning at me. "All the violence and mercenaries are a bit...distasteful."

"Yeah, I know that feeling," I mutter, taking a peek around the corner. "Still, bet you've got some stories to tell."

"I don't usually get a lot of people to tell them to," Rolan says. "I assume this is you offering to buy us drinks if we make it out of this alive? I hear that's typical human camaraderie."

"Never suggested I was buying," I reply, smiling to myself before peeking out. I can't see much because of our low position, so I dip back in and sigh, opening the channel to Kasumi. "Got any news for us?"

"_They're starting to get worried about the people they sent into the bedroom, so I think we've got about a minute until they find the bodies, two minutes before they come down the scaffolding right on top of you,_" Kasumi informs me, from some unknown position. "_The vault has two guards posted on it now until they can get access from Hock, which isn't a problem, but unless our turian friend learns how to tactical cloak we're stuck. There's way too many of them for you to sneak past without one._"

Two minutes to work this out, awesome. At least four years of this shit has taught me to work well under pressure. "Then we'll need a distraction. How's Hock doing?"

"_They know they need a voice sample, so they're not roughing him up too badly. Staying away from his face, anyway, but they've probably got a lot of other ways to get the password out of his mouth. We already handled the circuit box for them, and DNA from Hock isn't hard to get,_" Kasumi explains. "_Oh, and someone mentioned that Benkenstein PD was on its way. In force._"

"If Hock's paying them off they won't risk coming into a hostage situation straight away," I say. "Too much risk he'll die. The police might be a problem later, but right now they're just peripheral. The rest of the hostages?"

"_Being watched, but left alone. It looks like they only want the vault contents,_" she replies. "_Hostages are just leverage over the police, I think._"

This brings up a whole lot of questions about what kind of people are crazy enough to rob a reputed galactic bad guy and his merry band of fellow bad people and actually leave them alive to get revenge, but I can try and have them answered later. Right now, a plan is higher priority. "We've got a couple of minutes before they follow us down here," I quickly explain to Rolan. "We'll need to move over to the vault, but there's a ton of guards up there. Can you tactical cloak?"

"I didn't install any power cells for it," he replies, shaking his head. "I didn't anticipate needing a cloak." He glances at me with a bit of confusion. "How did you install power cells in a suit?"

"I got people who know what they're doing to handle it," I say vaguely. If he really wants to know, I can always ask Ken and Gabby how they managed. "But that ruins that idea."

"I can make a decoy," Rolan suggests, opening up his omni-tool. "Maybe distract them with that and keep them looking the other way."

"Yeah, but they project an image of you. Or me if you scan me," I point out. "If they just see a turian running in place, they're going to catch on really fast."

"I'm not saying that," Rolan says, pointing up to a raised area above the party. I noticed that on the way in; there's stairs leading up to it on each side of the entrance to the room, presumably as a seating area, but there's enough room to walk around up there. I see where this is going. "I can project one of us moving around up there. Change the decoy position to make it look real. It can project sound, so we talk, keep them watching."

"So we're going to have to walk to the vault and make sure they keep looking up there, without letting them realise it's a fake," I say, shaking my head. Even by my standards, that's a long shot. "That's a massive risk-"

"Spread out!" a voice from upstairs suddenly shouts out. "They'll still be in here!" Great. Guess our friends in the bedroom got found, which means we're out of time. At least that makes the decision for us. "I hired you as professional mercenaries, not idiots who can be beaten by party guests!"

"Massive risk that we'll have to take," I say, looking at Rolan who's already raised his omni-tool to scan me. Guess he worked out we don't have a choice faster than I did. "We're walking as fast as possible, alright?"

"Depends how theatrical you want to be," the turian deadpans, finishing his scan as I reach up to my ear.

"We're on our way. Get rid of those two guards, open up the vault, and try and get the Saren statue in there, because I'm not going to have time to put my gear on outside the elevator."

"_That sounds reassuring,_" Kasumi replies. Rolan points the omni-tool up at the raised area, and I see myself flicker into view near the bottom of the stairs there. No-one notices the decoy appear, and at this distance, it looks real enough to work. Time to slip back into the mercenary persona.

"To be fair, I'm a little above the usual tier of party guests," I say, relieved to know the sound is converted into a significantly louder shout coming from the decoy's mouth. If we were looking for a distraction, this works extremely well. Every single guard in the place pulls their weapon and points it up at me, and I see one talking quickly into his omni-tool, hopefully recalling the ones from the bedroom. "A bit less...defenceless. In fact, if you'd wanted to hire a professional mercenary, you probably should have called me." Rolan gives me a nod to start moving, so we both walk up the steps cautiously at first, the turian concentrating on his omni-tool, and sure enough he gets the movement just good enough for it to look natural. My double walks up towards the top of the balcony entirely naturally, and the cocky grin on my face is at least genuine for them.

"I don't think I've heard of you," a voice calls out, the same one barking orders from before. Must be the young, brown haired guy running this whole thing, and sure enough the person gesticulating in front of Rolan and I has brown hair. "I assume you're the reason one of my men is dead, and the other three are unconscious?"

"You don't read Badass Weekly? They just ran an article on me," I say. "As for your men, yeah, that was me. Though in their defence it wasn't much of a fair fight, so don't hold losing against them too much."

"I won't," he replies, an edge of amusement to his voice as all his guards keep pointing their guns up here. Opening fire will probably make the watching police a bit jumpy, so he must want to be ending this without too much violence. Sure enough, a few guards are moving around to the stairs as my decoy walks along the balcony, presumably heading up to restrain me. They're in for a surprise. "So what do I call you?"

"It's a party, so Charles will do fine," I grin. Rolan and I are in the main area now, and despite the knot twisting in my stomach at the possibility of any one of them turning around and seeing us, I'm having a good time with this. "No need for aliases or whatever. And yourself?"

"Adam, if we're going with first names," the human shouts back. "Why don't you come down here, Charles? Saves my guards dragging you down in a few seconds. There's no way out up there."

I shrug, Rolan repositioning himself as the two of us start walking along to the stairs leading down to the vault, continuing the illusion playing out above us. "I prefer talking without restraints on. Never much liked mingling with other guests either." I point down towards the rest of the hostages. "So, Adam, what's with the security force helping you out? I thought they worked for our host."

"You're right. They did," he replies, this 'Adam' sounding as confident as I do. "Turns out mercenaries are a bit footloose if you've got enough credits. Eclipse aren't an exception."

"So, what, you're just showing off by doing this or something?" I ask. "It couldn't possibly be linked to Mr. Hock's large vault underneath us, could it?"

"I think that's my business, not yours," Adam says. "Hock and I were just talking about it before you interrupted, actually."

"You did send four people with guns after me," I point out. "You'll have to forgive my manners."

Adam laughs out loud at that and shakes his head. I can see the guards flanking up the stairs on both sides of the room towards me, but a quick glance down towards the vault shows the two guards Kasumi was talking about unconscious on the floor. Hopefully she'll have the vault open, and the Saren statue inside so I can get my stuff on. "Alright, I suppose that's fair enough. You know we're not going to hurt you if you come down here, right? Hostages are a formality so we don't get interrupted. Once we get access to the vault, we'll be in and out."

"And I respect that," I nod, speaking honestly there. "But I did just to admit to killing one of your mercs, and while that might not bother you, his comrades might have a few objections to it. Being a hostage isn't really my style, anyway." Rolan beckons down the stairs, but as soon as I start walking down them, the illusion is gonna get broken. We'll have to make a dash at that point. "Not to mention it would kind of spoil my own plans."

"What do you mean?" Adam says. He's still trying to sound smug and confident, but I heard it. The faintest crack that shows it's an act now, rather than a conviction. The guards are almost on top of me now, one reaching for cuffs.

"You'll work it out," I smile, as the merc takes a quick few steps forward and tries to tackle me, falling straight through the decoy. Another one steps forward, poking the barrel of his gun forward and watching as it passes through. I give Rolan a nod, the turian closing his omni-tool as the two of us break into a sprint down the stairs and through the door leading to the vault entrance, the shouts of Adam and various mercs behind us as they start to search the place. Fortunately, Kasumi's waiting in the elevator, Saren statue stood next to her as Rolan and I dash in.

"The security systems reactivate themselves, right?" I ask Kasumi, opening the hidden compartment inside the statue and seeing my armour, sniper rifle and HVB stashed inside, as well as a bunch of spare thermal clips. Good, because if they ever work out how to get down here, we're going to need a lot of ammo. "We might've kicked the hornet's nest up there."

"Yes. As soon as the elevator leaves, it all locks back up again," Kasumi nods, as I pull off the suit, followed by the shirts and trousers, reaching for my regular armour before I make eye contact with Rolan, looking and grinning at me. "They won't be able to follow us."

"Rolan, I swear to god, you need to stop winding me up," I say, quickly attaching the leg parts of armour and clipping them into place, before sliding into the torso part, at which point the turian looks away, his mandibles still widened in an unmistakable turian grin. "Now is not the time."

"There's not a lot of other things to look at in an elevator," he says. "Nothing meant by it."

"I know, but you're doing this on purpose because of earlier," I point out, trying not to blush.

"You're being awfully defensive over someone looking your way," the turian replies calmly.

I sigh, shaking my head and checking my rifle and pistol. He does have a point, but it's still embarrassing. For some reason. Whatever. "Once we all get what we want, how do we get out?" Kasumi asks. "There's police surrounding the place. We could steal a cargo ship like you said, Rolan, but they might shoot down leaving vehicles."

Damn, that's a very good question. I'm hoping Rolan will say something, but given how crazy things have been getting, I don't think anyone planned that far ahead. "We'll have to think of something on the way," I say, knowing it's a cop-out, but we're three intelligent people. Hopefully that'll be enough to work out a way to avoid being killed, either by police or some very irate mercenaries and their employer. No-one has anything to say to that, so we just stand in a thoughtful silence until the elevator door slides open.

"Well, Hock certainly has quite the collection," Kasumi murmurs next to me, as I look around the enormous vault. I mean, seriously enormous. There's individual display podiums with smaller items on, rows of enormous statues, and-

"Is that Lady Liberty's head?" I ask, doing a double take at the enormous sculpture on my left. There's no way that can be the real thing.

"Yes, it is. Part of the reason the Second American Civil War happened, actually," Rolan explains, deciding to play history teacher. I remember hearing about the Second American Civil War a couple of years back when I was reading up on what I'd missed in a hundred and eighty years, as well as the destruction of Lady Liberty by anti-union terrorists, but...wow. "They put it on display in a national museum after terrorists destroyed the original Lady, but it disappeared in an attack during the war. I assume it passed between owner to owner before Hock obtained it." Rolan peers across at something else. "He also seems to have Michelangelo's David."

I follow Rolan's eyes, the famous statue staring right back at me. "People really will steal anything," I say, stepping further into the vault and looking around, trying not to be too impressed by the collection. There's a big krogan statue, which is pretty neat, some weird sculpture thing, a statue of...what looks like an ogre from Dragon Age. "What's that supposed to be?" I ask, pointing over to it. Kasumi seems preoccupied looking down at her omni-tool and walking through the vault, the device emitting small beeps every so often. I guess she's looking for the greybox.

"An ogre statue made by a very famous twenty-first century human artist, Arainai. He specialised in all sorts of fantasy works," Rolan nods, reaching for his mass reducer. "High value to it, and it's not too hard to move. I can take one statue, the rest will have to be small items."

"You're spoiled for choice there," I chuckle. "I'm gonna go and help Kasumi. Try not to take too long."

"Don't worry, I have a few pieces in mind," the turian replies as I walk towards Kasumi, her omni-tool beeping at a rapid rate as she stops by one particular display podium with two submachine guns on, and a small, thin grey device. I'm guessing it's a greybox.

"These make a nice bonus," Kasumi says, picking up both submachine guns and handing me one of them. "The gun that killed two Presidents. Kassa Fabrications M-12 Locust. I'm sure Hock won't miss them too badly."

Hmm, submachine guns. Never really liked automatic weapons. "I'm fine with my gear as it is, but maybe Rolan might want it?" I suggest. "He could probably do with a gun, all things considered."

"I'll need a few thermal clips," he shouts. Wow, impressive hearing. I grab a few, though, walking over and handing him the gun, then walking back to Kasumi while he checks it over.

"This is it, then?" I ask her, as she picks up the greybox again and opens her omni-tool, presumably attempting to access it.

"This is it," Kasumi nods, far too focused on the display to look at me. I don't blame her. I couldn't possibly understand what that greybox means to her, considering it's the last she has of Keiji. "There's a codelock I need to get through, but if I know Keiji, I think I can-"

"Thought I might find you down here," a familiar voice calls from across the room, making Kasumi, Rolan and I turn, my pistol out while Rolan's stowed his mass reducer away with surprising speed, replacing it with the SMG. Both of us aim at Adam and an entourage of four mercs. .Least, I think they're mercenaries, but they're not wearing standard Eclipse armour. Adam's changed his outfit as well, since he's wearing similar gear. At least it's a fairish contest, now that Kasumi and I are fully loaded up.

"How did you even get access?" I ask, keeping my gun aimed steady at Adam, who's staying still in front of the elevator. "We've been in here for like two minutes."

"Hock figured out what you were doing," he replies. "Honestly, he might have let us in here hoping that we'd kill each other. Though we did step up the pressure on him after your little stunt upstairs. He doesn't have a huge pain threshold."

"I'm not surprised. Hock gets other people to do his dirty work, he wouldn't know how to deal with that sort of thing," Kasumi says. "No wonder he cracked."

"And he can't get robbed twice," Rolan adds. "I suppose letting you in does make sense. His two problems can eliminate each other."

"I think that's a bit optimistic of him, all things considered," Adam chuckles. "We don't need you dead. Though if you want to fight, and I wouldn't recommend it, I doubt we'll end up finishing each other. You're outnumbered and outclassed."

"I've heard that before," I shout back. His confidence isn't surprising, considering he still thinks he's facing off against one good mercenary and a couple of thieves who aren't even in armour, but I think Kasumi and Rolan can easily hold their own. Three against five isn't the best odds, but it's survivable. Though maybe we don't need to fight... "If you don't need us dead, why don't we compromise? We take this," I say, pointing to the greybox, "and then whatever items my turian friend's got stashed on his person, and you get the rest of the vault."

"This isn't a negotiation," he replies, sounding annoyed. "We take the entire vault. You can go upstairs and be good hostages, or we can kill you."

I'm about to push my point further, when something occurs to me. From what this guy's said, he bought out the entirety of Hock's mercenary security staff to rob his vault. Running most of the security would be a big contract for Eclipse, not one they probably like to give up easily, unless they had a huge one-off payment to switch allegiances. The contents of the vault might cover it, but we're talking a lot of credits. Enough for the profit margin to be very small for the effort. "What if we just take the box?" I ask, Adam's brow furrowing more at that, as I notice Rolan looking at me with some alarm out of the corner of my eye.

"Not negotiating."

"So it's more important to you than anything else in here," I say. "Is that why you only brought your own people down here? You didn't want some random merc swiping it for themself?"

Adam's expression switches from anger to confusion as he looks between me, Kasumi and the greybox. "Do you have any idea what the memories in that greybox hold?"

I glance over at Kasumi now, remembering what she said when we were coming in here. Keiji had found something big, something that could implicate important people, and from the sound of it Adam knows what this big thing is. "Do you want to tell me?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "Look, you have no idea what that box could cause," he says. "I'm asking you, for the last time. Give me the greybox, go and sit with the hostages, and wait for us to leave. If you don't, I'm going to kill you."

I turn my head fully to look at Kasumi now, noticing two things. First of all, she's shaking her head, so there's no deal. We're going to have to fight. Which would explain the second detail; the flash grenade she's had held behind her back, presumably the entire time.

"How are you going to leave?" Rolan suddenly asks, making everyone look at him. "There are police surrounding this entire mansion. They'll shoot you down."

"And you know as well as I do that Hock and his billionaire friends pay their salaries," Adam retorts. "If we say he's with us, they won't take the risk." Shit, that's actually a really good plan. It's not like we'd stop to let them check Hock's on board, we just claim he is and that solves it. It also means Adam would've just left his merc force to get destroyed by the police, but I think I've gathered by now he's not too bothered about his hired help. "Now. The box, or your life and we take it anyway. Which ones is it going to be, Charles?"

I double check by looking at Kasumi, who shakes her head once again. "Sorry," I reply. "We'll take our chances."

"Then have it your way," Adam says. A few things then happen very, very quickly. I run and slide to take cover behind the krogan statue, just as Kasumi throws her primed grenade and Adam flares up with biotics, making the krogan statue lift up above me while I'm unable to change my direction. Then the grenade detonates, the effect far worse on the other side of the room where Adam and his men are, the loss of concentration on his part making the enormous statue fall down right above me. About a second before it pulverises me, a turian slams into my side and the two of us roll clear, scrambling to get behind another display podium as the grenade shockwave starts to dim.

In about five seconds, Adam's almost killed me, and it turns out he's a biotic. These guys are not fucking around.

Fortunately, the effects of Kasumi's grenade have left one unfortunate enemy out of cover and disorientated, letting the three of us focus fire on him. Shields are gone in an instant, and his vital signs follow suit within less than a second. Four left. The others have roused themselves now, though, taking it in turns to pop out of cover and fire at Rolan and I, as well as Kasumi in her separate position, keeping us under a hail of suppressing fire which'll be letting them flank around us. I'm about to yell at Kasumi to cloak, but the thief has already disappeared before the words are out of my mouth. The nearest target to her is taking cover on the left of the elevator, so unless he can see through cloak, that's one less. Even fight now.

Rolan pokes his omni-tool out, and I see a decoy version of himself crouched behind cover appear out in the open, drawing a few shots just as Kasumi comes out of cloak and decks her target with ease, disappearing again before they stop shooting at the decoy. I can hear Adam yell some curse as they realise it's a fake, but the suppressing fire returns, leaving Rolan and I only able to stick our heads out and occasionally fire a few shots that hit their shields. I need a better angle. "I'm gonna head out and snipe," I tell the turian. "Stay here and keep your head down." He's only got that suit on, and I doubt it has shields, so keeping him safe is a priority.

I cloak and sprint out, a few suppressing shots impacting my shields, but not enough to cause any real panic before I conceal myself again and switch to my rifle, staring down the scope at the ones shooting at Rolan and a recently uncloaked Kasumi. Easy shot from this range. The rifle kicks back naturally as one goes down in a bloody mist, spattering over Adam and the remaining merc who don't even look at their dead friend go down. There's a flanging yell of pain from around the same time, and I scope out to see Rolan clutching his arm, blue blood dripping down it. I grab another thermal clip to reload the Mantis, but Adam flares up with biotics again, launching something around Rolan's cover that drags the turian helplessly out into the open. Shit, he got Pulled.

While Adam keeps him in the air, the other guy stands to adjusts his aim straight at Rolan, and I've not got time to reload the rifle. He gets in three shots, Rolan body shaking as they hit, before Kasumi shows remarkable accuracy with an SMG by pouring at least ten rounds into that merc's chest and skull, dropping him. With a look of both anger and surprise that his whole force has been wiped out, Adam just drops Rolan like he's nothing. He does that a second before I drill a Mantis round through his head, silence finally descending on the vault.

"Rolan!" Kasumi yells, sprinting over to the fallen turian as I follow after her. I can see blood seeping from the wound on his arm, and I know it's not going to be a pretty picture when we roll him over to examine his chest. Shit. We brought him into this fight, and he's likely dead or dying because of it. "He's still breathing," she tells me as we both kneel down next to Rolan, and I stem the bleeding in his arm before we gently try to roll him to treat the chest wounds.

I expected to see blood everywhere, Rolan's eyes to be lifeless. Instead, I'm greeted with a groaning, but smiling, turian, bullet holes in his suit revealing a dented metal beneath. "Strong framing on these things," he coughs, looking between Kasumi and I before sighing. "Damn. I think I broke a few bones." I reach to his suit and yank it open, followed by the shirt, exposing a large metal frame which I flip over to reveal a painting.

"Since when did paintings have frames that can absorb bullets?" I ask, feeling a huge wave of relief that the turian's alive.

"Hock will have had the frame made from strong materials to protect it from damage," Kasumi explains, looking amused. "It's not uncommon for art museums to install kinetic barriers on valuable items as well. Won't stop someone getting their hands on it, but it does help stop accidental damage and types of vandalism. I don't think it was designed for bullets, but a barrier gives protection anyway."

"She's right," Rolan nods, trying to sit up and grunting with the effort despite the painkillers in medi-gel. "It's not why I chose this item to take, but I'm glad I did with hindsight."

"Same here," I say, helping Rolan stand up before I look at Kasumi. "How's the greybox? You still got it?"

"Right here," Kasumi says, holding it up then pointing at the door opposite Lady Liberty's head. "We can go through there to get a ship, and the sooner the better. I don't want to be in here if the rest of the mercenaries come down to see where their boss went."

"Good idea," I nod, looking back over at where Adam and his men are lying. He came here for the greybox, that's for sure, the whole idea of stealing the entire vault was just a cover. Why, though? What's so important on there that Hock killed Keiji for it, and Adam went to all that trouble to retrieve it himself? I'll have to ask Kasumi once she's got it open. Assuming she even wants to share. "You alright to walk, Rolan?"

"Keep holding me up and I'll be fine," he nods, and I can see him looking at the statues with some disappointment. "Do you think we can take some of them with us?"

"I think we should probably focus on getting out of here and not dying rather than that," I chuckle, pulling Rolan along with us. "Speaking of which, can you remix Hock's voice again, Kasumi? When the police hail us it'll be good if we can have something that seems authentic to play to them."

"Already doing it," she says, and true enough Kasumi's fiddling with her omni-tool as we walk. We might have not done it exactly how I'd hoped, but we got the greybox. Hock and his merc friends will presumably be rescued by the police eventually, but it doesn't matter. The point of the mission wasn't to kill them, after all, it was to get that mysterious little box.

Now, all that remains is to see why so many people are prepared to kill for it.

#############

Stealing a ship doesn't take long, especially with the combined skills of Rolan and Kasumi, and the turian's damaged bones don't stop him from piloting us away from Hock's mansion and out towards the Normandy's location. Kasumi's altered voice sample gets us through the police line. We gave them a bullshit story about dropping Hock off somewhere and transmitting his location as long as we're not followed, which they didn't really have much choice but to accept, so we're clear on that end. They'll work out he never left the mansion soon enough, but we'll be long gone by then.

Rolan is piloting the small cargo ship, so when I walk back into the main hold after contacting the Normandy for pick-up, Kasumi is the only one there, greybox and omni-tool both streaming data. "I called ahead to explain why we didn't need the Kodiak, and Joker's transmitted coordinates to Rolan. We should be back on the Normandy in a few minutes." I take a seat next to Kasumi on the small bench she's perched on. "You got it to work yet?"

"Yes," Kasumi nods, looking up at me. "It's ready to go whenever I am. I'll play it through a visor I have installed in my hood, but you'll be able to see what's on it if you use my omni-tool screen."

"You sure you want me to do that?" I ask, not a hundred percent comfortable with this. "If there's a message on there, I'm guessing Keiji probably left it for you to hear. I can go into the cockpit and talk to Rolan if you want some time alone."

"You helped me with this operation. With how things turned out, I couldn't have done it without you, and I know you must be wondering why Hock and that other man wanted it so badly," she replies. "You deserve to see."

In part, I know it's going to be uncomfortable, because I'd be pretty damn surprised if there wasn't something special for Kasumi inside the greybox. On the other hand...I do want to understand all of this. If Kasumi thinks I should see, then I'll stay. "Alright," I nod. "Play it when you're ready."

Kasumi reaches down and touches something on her omni-tool, causing a light blue visor to slide down over her eyes as I turn my attention to the screen. There's a flicker, before a video starts up, only showing the face of an Asian man with a small goatee, and slicked back black hair, looking at the camera with sadness on his face. "_Kasumi. If you're seeing this, it's because I'm dead._" I can't help looking at Kasumi when he says that, her lips and their usual small smile trembling a little.

"_The information we found is all here. It's big, Kasumi._" As Keiji says that, the video feed flicks through some static images, and my eyes widen in alarm as I see what's in them. The batarians in the image don't bother me, but the Reaper displayed prominently certainly does, as well as various bits of technology that look strongly like they come from Reaper origin. No shit this is big, Keiji, he's got evidence that the Batarian Hegemony have been messing around with Reaper equipment. "_If the Council ever got wind of this...the Alliance could be implicated._"

The Alliance? The pictures continue moving, and now there's humans involved, equipment being destroyed, dead batarians, explosions, so on and so forth. Swathes of datapads with reports on, presumably listing what happened, but the images go past too fast for me to really read them. The Alliance must have found out and attacked the batarians. Hock only knew there was something big on there, which he wanted to crack and sell. Adam, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what was on the greybox. The only way he could know that is if he was directly related, or someone directly related to it told him about it. He wasn't taking it to sell, he was taking it to protect.

I think we just killed some undercover Alliance officers.

I can already feel my stomach lurching with the impact of that revelation. They were undercover and they didn't announce their intentions, what were we supposed to do? They threatened to kill us if we didn't hand it over...shit, shit, shit. Keiji's still talking, sentimental stuff with Kasumi that I'm not really listening to as I try to think this whole thing over. They didn't announce themselves or why they needed the greybox, and they attacked first. It was self-defence.

"_You'll want to keep these memories forever,_" Keiji says as I look to the video again, his face back on it. "But you don't need some neural implant to know I'll always be with you." There's a pause. "_Please, Kasumi, destroy these files. There's nothing more I can do to protect you._" Kasumi's lips are curling down now, the bottom one trembling a little. "_Goodbye, Kasumi. I love you._"

The visor pulls up from her now moist eyes, Kasumi looking...confused. Scared. More emotional than I've ever seen her. "You heard all that?"

"Yep," I nod. "You realise that the people back in Hock's mansion were-"

"Yep."

I sigh, looking down to the greybox, noticing Kasumi's done exactly the same thing. "Killing those Alliance people wasn't part of the plan, I know, but we had to do it. They attacked us."

"I know," Kasumi nods. "That's not what worries me. I didn't realise they knew about the greybox at all. I mean, you saw how far they went to try and get it from Hock's mansion."

"That's probably why Keiji wanted you to destroy the files," I point out. "You won't be in danger of them hunting it down if there's nothing for them to find. Plus, I mean, if this ever leaked somehow...that's war between the Alliance and the batarian Hegemony. At the very least."

Kasumi doesn't reply at first, but eventually she looks back at me. "I know I can keep these files safe. I'll stay off the grid. Make sure no-one else knows. If you had someone you loved, what would you do to keep hold of them?"

"If I had someone like that, I'd do anything," I reply. At the end of the day, this is Kasumi's decision, not mine to make. At most, all I can do is be honest with her. "But...he's gone, Kasumi. I know it'll feel like it, but it's not really him. There's nothing there to hold on to."

"That's the problem. It feels like him," Kasumi says. "It's real enough to me. Real enough to make destroying those files feel like losing him." Her head lowers. "Again."

"It's up to you," I reply. "Whatever you do, I'll respect your decision. But even putting all the implications of the information on there to one side. Hanging onto the past like this...I've seen it before, and it's not healthy. I can understand not wanting to, but if you keep the greybox, you won't be able to let go."

Kasumi stares at the greybox and the static image of Keiji on the omni-tool screen, so I step away to give her room to consider it. Given what she and Keiji had, it didn't seem fair making it about the information on the greybox. In the end, it comes down to whether or not she can move on. Whether or not she wants to, more importantly.

"He said I should destroy the files to protect me," she finally says. "I think I see what he means by that now." Kasumi reaches down to pick up the omni-tool and her greybox, pressing a few buttons, and I can see it's taking all her effort to stay composed as her finger hovers over one final input. Part of me wants to offer to do it myself, but I can't. This is something Kasumi should do.

"Gomen nasai, Keiji-san," she whispers, pressing down on the button. Keiji's face flickers in the video, distorting more and more...then it's gone.

"You alright?" I ask, stepping forward a little and breaking the heavy silence that hangs over the room after it. Kasumi takes a deep breath, then turns to look at me, nodding. If it wasn't for the fact her smile was missing, you wouldn't know anything was wrong, but that small detail tells me more than enough about how she's feeling.

"Yeah," Kasumi nods. "I'm fine."

The two of us sit back on the bench as Rolan guides us back home, and talking right now doesn't feel right. I know this probably wasn't what Kasumi had planned when she wanted to take the greybox back...but it's for the best. Not just for her, but a good portion of the galaxy too. It's tough to say goodbye, especially when someone leaves behind a neural implant of themselves, but Kasumi did the right thing.

I just hope she sees it that way too.

**A/N: So I'm probably due you all an apology about how long this took.**

**I'd initially hoped that around Easter time I would've been able to get some pre-exam updates out before getting back into things, so that was like April/May, but something personal that I don't want to talk about happened and made me not want to write or do much fanfiction related for a while. After that, exams happened (and since is my final year before university I needed to study), and I was struggling to get back into the groove with writing during and after them. This chapter was super hard to write because of how long it's been, but hopefully there's not been a drop in quality. I wanted to try and make it a good one to come back on.**

**The good news it that this signals normal service resuming, ideally weekly updates, since now I'm on holiday. Considering how gigantic Mass Effect 2 is, as well as all the other things I have planned, that's probably a good thing.**

**Thanks for all your patience, kind messages and reviews, and bearing with me through the wait. It's been much appreciated.**

**As ever, until next time.**


	5. Ian vs The Archnemesis

Chapter 5

The Killers: Mr. Brightside

"Shepard, you got a minute?" I ask, jogging up behind the Commander as she walks past the medical bay, right as I'm walking out the door. Chakwas is giving Rolan a look over, considering the shots the painting took for him still probably fractured or broke some bones, and Kasumi headed back to her own room without really talking to anyone once we got back. Joker told me Shepard was tied up in a call with some Alliance brass, but from the looks of things, that's dealt with now. After what happened on Bekenstein, I really think we ought to have a chat about the mission.

She turns around and gives a quick smile at seeing me, even though it looks quite tired. I don't really blame her, what with the Council and the Alliance giving her the run around for the past week. I thought we'd have recruited at least one more person by now, instead of being stuck in the political machine, but this is real life. Someone of Shepard's standing can't just reappear without causing a stir that has to be dealt with. "I was just going to look for you anyway," she says, pointing over at the main battery. "I see you brought a guest home."

I give a short laugh at that and shake my head. "He helped us out," I explain. "I almost got caught near a security system that he disabled, but he gave me an alibi. Turned out he was looking to get inside Hock's vault as well, so we worked together."

"So where is he now? And does he have a name?" Shepard asks.

"Chakwas is giving him a check up in the med bay, and she wants to rest him for a few days until his bones are repaired. We got shot at, some rounds hit the painting he was carrying under his clothes. They absorbed the shots, but the impact might've done some damage, so I figured the least we could do was patch him up. We did kind of drag him into it," I say. "As for his name, it's Rolan Quarn."

Shepard furrows her brow for a moment, as if remembering something. "I was catching up on news from the past couple of years and I could have sworn his name came up in a few reports. He's a wanted thief."

"To be fair, so's Kasumi," I point out. "He's a philanthropic thief, if that makes it any better."

"Just tell him we can drop him off on the Citadel after he's recovered," Shepard says, smiling. "Besides, we're recruiting a real convict soon, so I think my conscience can handle not turning him in to C-Sec."

She must be talking about Jack. Not that I should know that. "What's so special about this convict?" I ask, trying to sound as suspicious as possible. With my background, there's no way I would naturally trust someone like that. Hell, I know all about Jack, and I'm still not sure I trust her in a real life situation. "I don't mind that we're recruiting people on the edges of the law, but this sounds pretty heavy."

"He's called Jack," she replies. Of course, Shepard won't know Jack's a girl. "I don't know exactly why he's in prison, but considering they've got him in Purgatory, it's probably not anything good. Apparently he's an incredibly powerful biotic. On the same level with an asari justicar, maybe even better."

"I thought we already had our biotic powerhouse," I say, looking at Shepard, who chuckles at that. "Laugh all you want, I saw the things you could do two years ago. I think even Wrex was impressed."

"Well, thanks," Shepard responds, still smiling. "But I think The Illusive Man knows about my biotic abilities. If he still thinks Jack is worth recruiting, then..."

"He has to be something special," I nod. "Right. We're heading to Purgatory next, then?"

She shakes her head at that. "Not just yet. Purgatory isn't going anywhere, and we don't desperately need a biotic specialist. What we could do with is a bit more muscle."

"I thought Zaeed was our muscle," I reply, though I can see where this conversation is leading.

"He can be, but I don't think a krogan would hurt our chances."

I frown a bit at that. I can think of plenty of ways a regular krogan could damage things in the team, but we'll be recruiting Grunt. He's not really like other members of his species, so...well, it's less of a concern for me. "Who's the krogan, then?"

"A warlord. He's called Okeer. Don't give me that look," she says, shaking her head as I furrow my brow. "Garrus was exactly the same when I told him."

"Yeah, for good reason. Krogan warlords aren't exactly team players," I reply. "A bit on the morally reprehensible side, I've heard."

"I've read the dossier on him, and he actually doesn't sound too dissimilar to Wrex," Shepard explains. "The main details were that he fought in the Krogan Rebellions, but apparently he's become obsessed with curing the krogan from the genophage. He might have contacted the Collectors to try and help with that cure."

"If the Collectors are helping him, why would he want to help us beat them?" I ask. "He'll want something in return." It doesn't help that I know Okeer's real motive is to create perfect krogan, instead of curing his race, and he contacted the Collectors to that end.

I guess I shouldn't even be worrying about it to the extent I am. Okeer is supposed to die in the mission, after all, and we get Grunt instead. I'm just worried that 'supposed' isn't always enough these days. Stranger things have happened than a krogan surviving an easily avoidable death. "I don't know what he'll want," Shepard shrugs. "That's why we're going to meet him. As of right now, he's holed up in a Blue Suns camp on Korlus."

"Oh, great. He's working with mercenaries as well."

"We're only checking to see what he's like," Shepard says reassuringly. "If I don't think he's suited to the mission, he won't come aboard. Simple as that. But this mission is bigger than the feuds you might have with mercenaries, Ian."

"I know," I sigh. "I'll try and put it to one side. Just don't expect me to be friends with him."

"I didn't expect you and Wrex to get along, and look at the two of you now," Shepard laughs, then catches herself. "I mean, assuming the two of you are still friends."

"Yeah, we are," I nod. "We've kept in touch. Have you tried getting in contact with him?"

"I wouldn't really be sure what to say," Shepard replies, sounding quite thoughtful. "Besides. I don't really want to start rekindling old relationships right now."

"With the suicide mission and all," I say. "Right." Shepard doesn't exactly flinch at that, but the slight narrowing of her eyebrows and frown on her face shows how tactless of me that was. I keep forgetting how weird this all must be for her.

Before I can make an apology, though, Shepard's usual neutral expression is back on, the effect of my words either quickly dealt with, or quickly hidden. "Anyway, we got completely off topic there. I was _supposed _to be finding you to ask about how things went on Bekenstein."

"I can write up a mission report for you to read over, if you want to keep things formal," I offer. "I read enough of Kaidan's to get the gist of how to do it." I should probably mention the Alliance personnel thing right now, but...well, Shepard was kind of their poster girl. I know I wasn't at fault here, but the idea of talking about it with her is still somewhat nerve-wrecking. Probably why I'm looking for an excuse to write a report. At least when she finds out she won't be standing within punching distance.

"It wasn't exactly a formal mission, so I can just debrief you now and save us both the time," Shepard smiles. "Should we get Kasumi too?"

I shake my head at that. "I think Kasumi needs some personal time for now. I'm guessing she told you what we were retrieving?"

"A greybox with her friend's memories on it, I know," Shepard nods.

"Well, there was some personal stuff contained on it that she had to deal with. It's not my place to go into that, and it wasn't important to the mission, so I'd feel a bit more comfortable if you and her talked about it in private," I admit. "If that's alright."

"That's fine," she replies. "Just go over the main details."

"Well, I already told you about how we met Rolan, and him helping us out," I start to explain. "Hock's vault had a few security systems, one of which was DNA activated, so we snuck into his bedroom to try and see what we could find. Around that time, the mansion got attacked by people who bought out the mercs Hock was using for security. One person leading, and four other associates working directly with him. The mercs were just extra guns to keep everyone under control." I stop for a moment, thinking about how to phrase this next part. "This is gonna sound bad. Are you sure you want to talk about it here? There's probably bugs everywhere.

"I removed all the ones I could find," Shepard says. "I think we're just going to have to learn to live with them."

"Alright," I sigh. I guess it wouldn't make any sense for Cerberus to pass this on anyway, since they're not really big partners with the Alliance. "I think the people who attacked the mansion were undercover Alliance."

Shepard looks at me in surprise. "Why do you think that?"

"When Kasumi opened up that greybox, there was a lot of stuff on it. Stuff that wasn't personal to her," I explain. "I only caught some glimpses, but it was showing batarians working with Reaper tech, and an Alliance raid stopping them. All top secret, black ops stuff. The people who hired the mercs were only there to get it back, they didn't care about the rest of the vault."

"A greybox with that kind of information would be valuable to a lot of people," Shepard replies, from the sounds of things trying to think of ways this couldn't have been an Alliance job. I can relate to that. "Maybe that's why they stole it."

"Except no-one knew what was on that greybox," I say. "No-one except for Keiji, and the guy who tried to steal it from Hock's mansion. They cornered us in the vault, told us to give them the greybox or they'd kill us. So, we fought back. Didn't realise until I saw the greybox who we'd probably killled." I look at Shepard, who's just staring down at the table. "Shepard?"

"I'm trying to think this through," she mutters, before sighing and shaking her head, looking up at me. "Okay. Did these people identify themselves as Alliance? At all?"

"No," I say firmly. "They never gave any indication. Like I said, I only worked it out once I saw what was on the greybox."

"Is there any way the Alliance can link this back to you?"

"I...well, it depends. I guess they might want to look into why one of their teams died, so if they managed to access footage from Hock's party, they'd know I was there," I nod. "We had to use a decoy of myself to get to the vault when the mansion got attacked. I pretty much said I was looking to take the contents then, so...yeah, it wouldn't take them long. I'm sure the Alliance already have a file on me from the SR-1." Shepard's not saying anything, just running a hand through her hair. "Look, I know this is the last thing you probably need right now, and this mission really ought to get going. If you need me to stay on the Citadel, or go to Earth and deal with this Alliance thing, I can handle it." Obviously it's not ideal, but I need to put this into perspective. As long as we're delaying, the Collectors have free reign to go around abducting colonies. Killing people.

"No, you're not doing that," Shepard quickly replies. "You had no way of knowing who they were, and from what you said, they threatened and attacked you first. I'm not losing a squad member to sit around for months through hearings with Alliance courts. Besides, given what was on that greybox and the fact they took hostages, it was probably a black ops mission."

"Which means officially, the Alliance never sanctioned it and we can't be held accountable," I nod. "That's a good point. We can't know for sure that's what it was."

"It seems likely, trust me," she says.

"Still, I doubt they're just going to let it go like nothing happened. It's going to look bad for you if they know I killed their people, and you didn't even say anything about it," I point out. "Plus they'll think I've still got the greybox."

"Do you?"

"Kasumi destroyed it."

"That doesn't help much," Shepard mutters. "I guess if they ever do link it back to you, you'll just have to tell them that and hopefully they'll believe it."

"That doesn't sound like it'll work too well," I point out.

"I'll back you up on it. Besides, given the amount of care they've shown towards me, I'm not really feeling like passing anything their way," Shepard replies, sounding a touch angry. "And if the worst comes to the worst, you were acting under Spectre orders. Even if they wanted to touch you, they can't."

Spectre orders? "So you got reinstated?" I ask.

"Can't believe the Council did more for me than the Alliance," Shepard says, with a wry chuckle. "They're ignoring the Reaper threat, but they gave me my old clearance back. Sparatus wasn't exactly happy about it."

"But they did it," I reply. "Spectre status is probably going to be pretty useful in the future. Too bad they won't listen about the Reapers."

"Garrus already told me about them sweeping it under the rug while I was gone," she nods. "I mean, they weren't exactly on top of things before the SR-1 got attacked, but they're just ignoring it now."

"Can hardly blame them," I shrug. "It's much easier to say it was the geth who made Sovereign. People on the Citadel want to rebuild, not face it all over again. They want to know things are going to be alright. If I hadn't seen it all first hand, I sure as hell wouldn't want to believe it."

"Kaidan and I had a talk about that once," Shepard smiles. "Wanting to believe everything'll be fine is just human nature. He said that some things obviously carry across species well enough."

"Yeah, he makes a good point," I nod, leaning against the wall. As someone who was around during the early stages of rebuilding the Citadel, before Garrus and I went to Omega, the Council perspective is a little easier to relate to. I don't like that they discredited Shepard like they did, but I saw what it was like for people with their lives ripped apart in Sovereign's attack. All they really had was hope for the future, so telling them that Sovereign was just the first of many more...it's not hard to understand part of the reasoning behind the lie the Council put out. "Still, obviously the Alliance believe it enough to look into it. The raid on the batarians in that greybox is proof enough."

"Which makes it even more annoying that they won't let me in," Shepard mutters. "Anderson and Hackett were both friendly enough, but they were acting different. Even Anderson was. Like they can't see past the Cerberus thing."

"They're not doing anything about the disappearing colonies," I point out. "What kind of choice do we have? I mean, if the Alliance was launching a taskforce to deal with it, I'm sure you'd be on it straight away. It'll just be weird for them. Two years, then suddenly you're back, and it looks like you're working with the bad guys."

"Except it feels like I've been gone a couple of days, and suddenly people don't want to know me," she sighs. "I know we don't _need _Alliance help, it's just...frustrating."

"They might just need some time to start trusting you again," I say, trying to be reassuring. In truth, I have absolutely no idea what's going to make the Alliance trust us again. If they even do. The ending of Mass Effect 2 isn't exactly clear on it, and beyond that, I don't have a clue what's supposed to happen. "You sure you don't want me to hang back and clear things up with them about Bekenstein? It might help."

"I don't think it will," Shepard says, shaking her head. "Besides, I already told you, you didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing for you to clear up with them. And it's not like you can even give the greybox back, since it's destroyed, which is probably what they wanted to do with the evidence."

"Okay," I nod, feeling somewhat relieved Shepard's seeing it this way. It's putting my mind at rest, anyway. For now. "In that case I'll try not to worry about it."

"Good, because we're on course to Korlus right now, and I'll need you ready for the ground team," she replies, slipping into military mode. "Get some food and rest. I'll brief everyone about an hour before we arrive."

"How long until we get there?"

"Nine hours," Shepard tells me, then looks back at the main battery. "Is Garrus in there? I was going to have him on the ground team too."

"He'll be calibrating the main gun, so yeah, I think there's a good chance you'll catch him." It's always a struggle not to laugh or something when I think about him calibrating. "Who else is coming?"

"Mordin. He's done work with the genophage, and with Okeer's obsession, he might be useful to have along," she explains.

"Ah, good thinking," I nod. "I'll head up and get my stuff ready, then. Thanks for the talk, Shepard."

"Anytime. Good having you back in action," she smiles, then heads off to the battery as I stay leaned against the wall. This Okeer thing is still bugging me. The possibility of him ending up on the Normandy is tiny, of course, but it's really become enough to make me a little anxious to think about it. I don't even know much about him, other than that he previously did deals with the Collectors, and he's breeding a 'perfect krogan' that I'd much rather have aboard than him.

If I want to find out more about him, there is at least one krogan in the galaxy I can trust to ask for information. It might put my mind at rest talking to Wrex about Okeer. Might make things infinitely worse when I find out things I probably didn't want to know, but I'd rather be forewarned. A quick extranet search on my omni-tool tells me it's evening on Tuchanka time, so hopefully Wrex isn't too busy to take a call. I'm not even sure what he does most of the time, beyond sitting on his throne and looking imposing. From the conversations I've had with him, that's a big proportion of his time.

_Wrex, does Urdnot have a vidcall system? _I type. May as well make the call from our big conference room, assuming no-one else is using it. _Need to talk to you about something._ Actually, he might not know Shepard's back, or about the mission. I delete the previous bit of text. _Need to talk to you about a few things. _That ought to do the trick, so I send it off and look around the kitchen area. Garrus is busy talking to Shepard, I don't think I'm welcome in Zaeed's room and I'm not sure going to see Kasumi right now is the best idea. I'm not overly opposed to going to see Miranda, but I'm not sure what we'd talk about. I could have a proper chat with Jacob until Wrex replies, I suppose. Or go and see Joker, since I'm kind of making up for lost time with him. I'll get to chat with Mordin once we're out on the mission.

I do a quick browse through my omni-tool messages while I have it open, walking towards the elevator while I look. I'm not expecting to see any messages from the Omega squad, and I'm not supposed when they duly don't show up, but thoughts about them always creep up on me in quiet moments. The first correspondences should show up in maybe three days, which is going to be a mix of good and bad. Good because it'll be nice hearing from them, bad because I'll be freaking out if people take a while getting in touch.

It'll probably be Melanis who calls in last, as well. Just to screw with me, because she'll _know _I'll be on edge about all of this stuff. No doubt news of our dramatic escape must have slipped into the galactic consciousness, at least to those people who pay attention to Omega's affairs, so I'm sure she'll know I'm alive. I'd contact her, but I don't want to risk compromising her. Getting back in touch after the agreed upon waiting period keeps us all safe, and if waiting a few more days keeps her alive, I'm pretty sure that's worthwhile.

Still, it's got me thinking. Once we do get back in contact, what then? I'm on a ship constantly moving around the galaxy, on a suicide mission, and she'll probably have found somewhere to settle down and lie low. We could long distance. I'd try it, and I'm sure she'd be willing to give it a shot as well. The two of us were pretty invested in each other; maybe it was just because of Omega and everything that had happened to the two of us, but I've been away from that rock for over a week now, and I still feel as strongly about her as I did on it. With the lack of contact, maybe even more so.

Not a whole lot I can work out by myself, though. I'll just resolve to have a serious talk with her about us, the first chance we get, but for now it's not worth worrying about things I can't doing anything about. I step out of the elevator and head left to the armoury, giving Kelly a quick wave as she looks up from her terminal and gives me a smile. After a brief wait, the door slides open, and I can see Jacob standing at the weapon bench with what appears to a Vindicator, fiddling with the internal components. "Mr. Taylor," I say, making him look up and grin. Jacob and I haven't talked too much, but we do get along well. "Does Garrus know you're tinkering with his gun?"

"Nope. Don't think he ever will," Jacob shrugs, putting his tools down to face me fully. "I was hoping to make a few improvements, but your weapons...I can't do a thing to them."

"Not for lack of trying, clearly" I note, glancing over the scattered bits of weapon casing on the bench. "Our weaponsmith on Omega was kind of a pro, though."

"Oh, trust me, I'm seeing that," he smiles. "You've got a Predator that hits harder than a Phalanx."

"Don't forget the dot sight," I remind him. "Or the cooling so I get more shots from thermal clips. Or the silencer. He'd be pissed if they went unappreciated."

"Most I can do is put a laser sight on it," Jacob tells me. "Got a shipment of Phalanxes in from a...friend. They all had laser sight modules, but with all the extra stuff on your pistol, it'll just weigh it down."

"I'm a good shot as it is. Besides, laser sights are a total give away," I reply, heading over to the armoury cupboard and glancing through to make sure all my weapons are in place. "Thanks for the offer, though."

"No problem. Figured I ought to try and make myself look a bit useful," he laughs. "Otherwise you're gonna start wondering why they even put me in here."

"The thought hadn't even crossed my mind." I reach in and pull out the HVB, drawing it out of its sheath with a sigh. Still kind of heavy. I guess Laet's power cell additions wouldn't have helped with that, but I always needed to two hand it since I first picked it up. "Though speaking of something useful, do you think you could lighten this at all?"

"I was looking over that, actually," Jacob nods, whistling admiringly as he takes the blade out of my hands. "I'm guessing your weaponsmith friend added the electricity. Almost zapped myself first time I tried to clean it."

"I probably should have warned you about that," I admit.

"No harm done," he replies reassuringly. "As for making it lighter, there's not much I can do. I mean, the thing's an antique."

I frown at him for saying that. Sure, I found it in a display cabinet, but I didn't realise fancy swords that cut through just about anything were 'antiques'. "How old is it?"

"This model? It's an early build. Maybe...twenty or thirty years," Jacob explains. "Got a whole Cerberus R&D division working on these things, as well as actual weapon manufacturers. Can't say I've seen much of them, but I know for a fact they're lighter than this. They still haven't been able to solve how brittle the blades are, but they're working on it."

"Huh, good to know," I say, as Jacob hands it back and I sheath it again. "Still, I think I'll stick with this for now. The electrical mod has its uses. And I'd rather not owe Cerberus credits for a new one."

"We spent billions on Shepard. Pretty sure I could talk Miranda into swinging things to get you a new one," he chuckles. "But suit yourself. I guess it might be useful on Korlus."

"What makes you think that?"

"Sounds like there's going to be a few krogan. I think I'd rather be able to stab one charging at me rather than shoot it. Kinda hard to regenerate from a sword in your heart."

"They do have two of them," I point out. "And four lungs. If I stabbed one in the heart it would just piss him off."

"So stab him again."

"Do you have an encyclopedic knowledge of the location of krogan organs?" I ask. "I only know where four of them are, and they're the four obvious ones."

Jacob laughs at that, shaking his head. "Hey, we've got a little while before we hit Korlus. Look it up on the extranet before we get there."

"Will Cerberus terminals even let me look up krogan biology?" I ask, Jacob still laughing. "I figured the Illusive Man would have some block on search terms like that."

"Nah. Cerberus runs their ships pretty tight, but he's not _that _dogmatic," he says, grinning. "I think you'll be fine. Besides, you must've dealt with tons of krogan by now."

"A few too many," I mutter. No, Ian, don't follow those thoughts. "But I might do that research anyway. Thanks."

"No problem. Gonna take a crack at Garrus' sniper rifle and see if I can do anything with that while you're at it," Jacob says, picking up his tools again.

"It's the same specification as mine, if you've already checked that," I tell him. "So I doubt you can do much."

"Damn," he sighs, making me laugh as I walk out. "See you around, Ian."

"See ya," I call back over my shoulder, checking my omni-tool again. Still nothing back from Wrex, so I guess I can go up and watch the Joker and EDI show for a bit. EDI's obviously still shackled, but even so, I swear she's worked out how to subtly troll Joker within the restraints set upon her. She shouldn't have been calling him Jeff this early, so obviously someone told her it was okay, and her blank indifference to his sarcasm is basically the perfect foil. They'd be a match made in heaven if EDI wasn't technically a room linking onto the medical bay.

"You know what the best part of looking over mission data is?" Joker says, swivelling on his chair as I walk up. There must be some reflective surface on the cockpit for him to see people coming. "You find all sorts of interesting things."

"Why are you even looking over things from Bekenstein?" I ask, folding my arms. "I thought you had a ship to fly."

"It only really gets dicey when we hit the relays. EDI can handle it."

"So she's like your co-pilot, then?" I ask, grinning.

"No, I-" Joker pauses, composing himself. "Jeff Moreau doesn't have a co-pilot. _It _is like...cruise control. A trained monkey could handle this stuff."

"Well, you could've told Cerberus that before they wasted all their money on a sophisticated AI," I say sarcastically, EDI's blue orb popping up as we talk. "EDI, can you quickly explain what you're doing with the ship's piloting right now?"

"Of course, Ian. I am charting a course towards Korlus while Jeff analyses reports. I estimate a relay jump in twenty minutes, which I have been instructed to 'deal with'," she replies.

"Trained monkey, right?" I ask Joker, raising an eyebrow.

"I _hate _how it can do air quotes with its voice," he sighs, adjusting his cap. "Look, I'm not doing anything wrong. It can take care of the ship while I take a break. Trust me, if I was breaking protocol, it would tell me all about it."

"Alright. But if he falls asleep in the chair, zap him for me or something," I tell EDI. "Don't want your leather padded luxury making you lazy."

"Making?" Joker asks with a smile, prompting me to roll my eyes at him as he swivels back around, looking at the sreen projected above the ship control panel. "Back on topic, I didn't realise you led such an exciting life. Killing a whole base of batarian mercs by yourself?"

"Of course, you'd be the one person on the ship who actually read that article," I sigh. "First of all, I didn't write it, and secondly, I can see where this is going. You're going to be like 'wow all that early stuff is really cool' before turning it into a thing where you take the piss out of me for the other 'exciting' stuff."

"Ah, you're no fun," Joker says. "It was some great creative writing, though. Really stood out on the page. I always did think you had a crush on Wrex, explains the krogan ambassador thing-"

"Again. I didn't write it." My omni-tool suddenly pings, flashing up a new message from Wrex. Perfect timing. By the time I've looked at the notification and back to Joker, he's already grinning, presumably from reading it himself. "Go on. Make a joke. I dare you."

"No, too much pressure now, too much expectation," Joker says, shaking his head. "I'll get you later. I didn't realise you kept in touch with the old team."

"I don't," I admit. "Wrex is just the exception. You probably keep in contact with Kaidan a whole lot more than I do."

"If by that you mean 'we haven't talked in almost a year and a half', then yeah, you're right," he chuckles. "We all kind of fell apart after the Alliance ditched you guys."

"Well, we can fix that now," I say optimistically. "Besides, I barely even saw you on the SR-1, you couldn't have missed me too much."

"Oh, I know, I didn't care about you," Joker says, with just the right tone of voice to let me know he's joking. "It was more the whole SR-1 environment. Things were good."

"They'll be good again," I tell him. "I know it's not the same ship, but we can have all that again."

"Yeah," Joker nods with a smile. "Course, then we all go through the Omega 4 relay and die horribly. But at least we'll all be the best of friends."

"That's the spirit," I laugh, checking the full message Wrex sent now.

_Yeah. I'm standing in it now. You've got five minutes to call before I go and do something else._

"Well, our mutual krogan friend is ready for me to call him, so I'm gonna have to go before he gets bored," I say, showing the message to Joker. "I always say I'm 'friends' with Wrex, but he has this way of making me second guess myself about it."

"With all the excitement in the nuclear wasteland they live in, I don't blame him for being a rush," Joker says snarkily, making me laugh. "Go and see him. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Will do," I nod. "Thanks for letting me know how funny you found my article." I'm about to turn away, when a sudden thought hits me. "If you can see mission data and stuff, doesn't that mean you can access helmet cams?"

"We didn't have yours turned on. The mission was a bit, you know. Illegal. And unofficial," Joker explains. "We weren't keeping evidence."

"Shame," I sigh. That would've been good proof about the Alliance people attacking us first. "Alright, see you in a bit. Check your monkey isn't going to kill us during the relay jump if you get the chance."

"I'm watching it like a hawk," Joker says, making me grin as I walk away. He seems pretty insistent on the 'it' thing even though I'm referring to as EDI as she, but he'll get used to it eventually. I'm sure the unshackling thing will help with that. I look between the armoury and tech lab, deciding my best route to the communications room is probably going to be past Jacob. Wrex will definitely walk off if I'm not there within the next couple of minutes, and I won't be able to extricate myself from a conversation with Mordin that quickly. We'll have time to chat about things once we're on the mission.

Jacob's still busy glaring at Garrus' Mantis while I walk through, giving me a small nod as I pass through. Once I'm through, I take a sharp right to the communications room and activate EDI's terminal, the blue orb merrily springing up in front of me. "EDI, can you connect me to this?" I say, showing her the contact details Wrex included with his message.

"Of course. One moment." The lights in the room dim down, letting a light blue projection start up above the conference table, though at the moment it's just a spinning infinity sign to show the call is connecting. This'll be quite nice, actually. Haven't had a proper chat with Wrex since Shepard's funeral. We've just been texting buddies.

"Ian." Wrex's voice grunts through the speakers first, his body projection following through a couple of seconds after. He's got his new armour on; the big, silver suit with large shoulder pads, a small light on the upper left, and a large protective casing over his nutrient hump. Other than that...he hasn't changed a bit. Same scar, same sort of fire pattern on his headplate, same monotone voice and slight glare upon seeing me. Still a badass.

"Wrex." I keep my reply just as brief, the two of us staring at each other for a few seconds before I grin and step forward. "You know if this wasn't a vid call, I'd have hugged you by now."

"Which is why I'm glad it's a vid call," he says, but he's chuckling as he does. "First time seeing you in almost two years, I'd hate to have to knock you out for doing something like that." He pauses, and I see his reptilian eyes roving over me. "You look older."

"That's funny, you look exactly the same," I smile. I know I look older than I used to, though. Got a fair few more cuts and stuff from Omega, stubble that I can't stave off like I used to, and a more weathered look to me overall. I looked like someone barely out of their teens back on the SR-1. Now I look about thirty. "Though maybe it's the quality of the call. Your image is a little blurry."

"The equipment we have here isn't exactly state of the art, but it works. I don't think you called just to see my face anyway," he states bluntly.

"How do you know? If you'd read my Badass Weekly article, you might think differently."

Wrex scowls. "That's a real thing?"

"Yeah. The article wasn't, but...actually, now that I think about it, don't try and find it," I say. "You're right, though, I didn't just call for a pretty face. I've got something to ask you about a specific krogan."

"Is it Garm? Because I already gave you all the things I'd heard about him, and I haven't found anything new," he replies. "Can't believe you and the turian are still doing that suicide thing on Omega."

"Actually, we're not. Doing a totally different suicide thing now," I say cheerfully. "You heard any rumours about Shepard recently?"

Wrex pauses to think, then slowly nods. "A few. Most of them say she's alive."

"Well, she's in charge of this particular suicide mission, so they're right," I reply. "Cerberus rebuilt her. Rebuilt the SR-2. Collectors are abducting human colonies, so-"

"You'll all be stopping them, yeah, I get it," Wrex says, cutting me off. "I did this once before with you, remember. I know how things with Shepard work." He chuckles to himself. "She is one tough human. Even krogan don't come back from dying after two years."

"Apparently all it takes is a few billion credits and a massive science team, you should try it some time," I shrug.

"Something would have to kill me," Wrex grunts, smirking. "Not going to happen. So. If you're going after Collectors, and you're wanting to ask me about a krogan, you'll want to know about Okeer."

I furrow my brow at Wrex. "How'd you know that?"

"He has a reputation on Tuchanka. Clans don't agree on much, but every krogan knows Okeer isn't welcome on our world," he explains, eyes narrowed. "He...dabbled in genetics. I don't know what he was doing exactly, but he sold a lot of our people to the Collectors in return for some equipment. He barely got off the planet with it. The clans he'd abducted from found out, and..." Wrex looks up, fixing his blood red eyes on me. "If we'd found him, he'd have been ripped to pieces. If Okeer ever showed his face to a Tuchankan krogan, they'd try and kill him."

So much for putting my mind at rest by talking to Wrex, then. We're picking up a lovely krogan who sold out his own race to the Collectors, and now we're getting him to help us fight them. That can't possibly end poorly, can it? I didn't know any of this stuff about Okeer from the game, mostly because he was dead in about two minutes and I stopped paying attention to stuff about him, so this is all coming as a genuine surprise. If I didn't want things to go according to canon before, I sure as hell do now. "Well, that's a shame, because we're going to recruit him in a few hours if all goes to plan."

"You said it was a suicide mission. Good place for him," Wrex mutters. "I was going to ask you, Shepard and Garrus to come by Tuchanka some time if you got the chance, but if that...thing, if he's on your ship, I don't recommend it. Not unless you want him dead."

"So, just to clarify; recruiting him is a _bad _idea?"

"He's got a thousand years combat experience, and he fought in the Rebellions. If you want a capable fighter, he'd do that," the krogan replies, though there's real venom in his voice. "And I'm sure he knows lots about the Collectors. Just don't be surprised when he realises he can benefit himself by trading you all in."

"Okay," I nod. "I'll mention it to Shepard and see what she says." I'm definitely glad I did my research on Okeer, now all this has come to light. Knew I was right to be suspicious of a krogan warlord. "Thanks, Wrex."

"No problem," he says, then pauses and gives a brief chuckle. "You were always chasing after my approval on the SR-1. If you want the whole of Tuchanka to love you, kill him and bring him back here."

"I think Shepard might take issue with that," I say, chuckling too. "I'd rather keep my place on the SR-2 than live on Tuchanka. No offence, it's just not really my environment."

"So living on Omega for two years is better than my homeworld? You managed there."

I think that over, weighing up the pros and cons. "If you promised I could stay wherever clan Urdnot is, it'd be better than Omega."

"Then the offer is open to you," Wrex says. I can't tell if he's being serious about me killing Okeer or not, but I decide to just laugh it off, and Wrex joins in with his low, rumbling sound. "It would be good to see Shepard. And you. Maybe even the turian."

"If you want to see Shepard, you kind of have to see Garrus as well," I point out. "They're sort of paired together now."

Wrex lets out a grumbling noise, but nods. "I guess that would be worth it. Speaking of Omega, I heard Jaroth and Tarak both died. Was that your big exit?"

"More or less," I nod. I can tell him about my new arm and all that stuff when we're actually on Tuchanka. Easier to show him and explain it then. "We got Garm too. Didn't your Blood Pack sources mention that?"

Wrex gives me what seems to be a confused look. "Garm? He's not dead. That why I asked if you wanted more information on him. I thought you'd be trying to finish him off."

Okay, that's got to be some sort of mistake. "Shepard and Garrus collapsed him underneath a building. After hitting the support column right next to him with a missile."

"Garm's a freak. If you hit him directly with a rocket and it blew him up, he might have died, but I doubt it," Wrex replies. "Leaving him under a building is nowhere near enough. I know he's alive."

I'm trying to stay calm and collected in front of Wrex, but my heart is racing, and my head's pounding as I think it over. The Blood Pack leader is still in place, so they'll still be strong. And while the Blue Suns and Eclipse might move on under new leadership, Garm probably won't. We don't need krogan coming after us.

We're off Omega, though. All Garm ever really wanted was his precious rock in his control, and now he's got it. Most likely the Pack will be too busy rebuilding themselves after the attack on our base, instead of worrying about a few runaway vigilantes who can't bother them anymore. I hope. I really, really hope. Even thinking about Garm is giving me bad chills. "Whatever," I say, trying to sound confident. "If he's on Omega, then it doesn't matter. We wrecked most of his operation."

"Yeah, Blood Pack krogan coming back to Tuchanka did always enjoy complaining about you two," Wrex chuckles, seemingly satisfied I'm alright. "You should have heard what some of them said they'd do if they got their hands on you."

We need to change the subject. Talking about this stuff is making me feel really, really unwell. "I know well enough, Wrex," I say quickly. Fuck changing the subject, I just need to end this conversation. "Look, thanks for the information. Shepard's calling everyone away for a briefing, so...I gotta go. Sorry."

"Oh," he says, looking surprised. "Fine. Good seeing you."

"Yeah, great," I mutter, politeness not even registering in my mind as I hang up the call. I can't even be in this room now, so I practically run out into the corridor, leaning on the wall and gasping in shallow breaths. My chest feels tight, I'm lightheaded, my heart's racing and I feel ready to puke. I try to close my eyes and focus on something else, but all that I can think about is Omega. Escaping with Gavorn. Ulron.

I lose track of time in the corridor. Once I can start thinking straight again, I can vaguely remember curling up with my back to the wall and resting my head on my arms, and that's about it. Now I just feel sick, drained, and scared. Garm's still out there. At least now I'm thinking about it without going into a meltdown now, but it still terrifies me. Garrus and I are with Shepard now, and the others are off Omega. That should be enough.

Just like things with Okeer. He dies in the game. That should be enough. It's what I keep telling myself. The only way to see is to wait and find out. It's the thought of what happens if I'm wrong that scares me the most.

I sigh, standing up. I need to get some food, and get some sleep. Things'll feel better in the morning. I can already feel myself returning to normal, but the shock of finding that out, the attack just then...I'm not going to lose that feeling for a little while.

Someone else needs to know, though. Someone who'll be nearly as worried about Omega's developments as I am. "It never fucking ends," I mutter to myself, heading for the armoury door.

I've got a turian I need to see.

**A/N: Just so you all know, I'm on holiday/'vacation' next week for a little bit, but I'll be writing again once I'm back. **

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
